


First Base

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-04-16
Updated: 1999-04-16
Packaged: 2018-11-10 22:16:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11135763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived atDue South Archive. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDue South Archive collection profile.





	First Base

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
First Base

 

Okay  
\-- this is my first story, and there are a few of things to mention:

1\. The story started out as a PWP (stop me if any of this sounds familiar...) and just grew and   
grew.  Either epic or grossly (ewwh) overwritten may come to mind -- just live with it, okay? Of   
course its length may have had something to do with the rather severe academic writer's block I   
was suffering from this summer... or not. 

2\. Huge debts of gratitude to my sweetie, Wendy, who egged me on, sustained me with cups of   
tea, and provided ongoing ... ah... inspiration and computer support. This story is dedicated to   
remembering the weekend of September 21-23 1984. Love you, girl. 

3\. Also major debts of gratitude to all the wonderful people who write DS slash, especially   
Elaine, Mitch and Tmar. Kiss kiss all. 

4\. Usual disclaimer -- they aren't mine (but oh, don't I *wish* they were!); I'm not making a   
cent off of this; no copyright infringement intended; it is not to appear in any form without my   
name attached. 

5\. Serious graphic sex warning -- **NC (does this stand for No Clothes?) 17**

6\. Minor sap and angst warning. 

7\. Curling warning (Wendy insists.) 

Enjoy 

neon   
  

## First Base

by  
neon blue

"Ray?" 

"Yeah Benny." Ray didn't even try to drag his eyes away from the television set on which he   
was watching the White Sox. 

Ben slid his eyes sideways and studied Ray's profile. He allowed his eyes to linger briefly before   
he too resumed watching the ball game.  They were sitting together on the couch in the Vecchio   
living room watching television and eating pizza. The other members of Ray's family were   
spending the weekend at a cottage on Lake Michigan whichTony had, through means best not   
gone into in front of law enforcement officers regardless of jurisdiction, acquired the use of.  Ben   
was not at all sorry that Ray had decided that he needed to remain in Chicago. The chance to   
spend quiet time with Ray was always welcome, and Ben felt that what he needed to do would   
be best accomplished with as few distractions as possible around.  And God knew, the Vecchio   
family was nothing if not distracting. He waited, and just as he was wondering if he was going to   
have to wait until the game broke for commercials, Ray briefly looked at him and asked, just a   
little exasperatedly, "So ... Ray what, Benny?" 

Ben paused again, as he knew that the careful orchestration of the conversation required   
impeccable timing.  He finally allowed himself to move a verbal pawn into position. "Well..." 

Ray sat back as the commercials came on and muted the television.  He looked at Ben with just   
the tiniest trace of aggravation on his face. Ben bent forward and rummaged around in the pizza   
box, partly because he knew that that would up the tension just a little, and partly because he felt   
that he needed to be doing something with his hands. Just as he heard Ray draw in a breath   
which he knew from experience would presage a verbal outburst, he counter attacked. "Would   
you like another piece of pizza Ray?" 

He let the question linger in the air, accompanied by a gently cocked eyebrow and a look which   
was as ingenuous as possible.  Ray shook his head impatiently, "Naw, it's too hot to eat," and,   
just as Ben knew he would, returned to the question hanging in the air. "So... well what, Benny?   
 Cos, you know, I'm not fooled by this pizza thing.  What's on your mind, huh?" 

All in good time Ray, Ben thought to himself, all in good time.  He looked back at Ray, who had   
settled into an  interrogate Benny' posture: arms crossed in front of him, eyes wary. If he were a   
horse, Ben thought, his ears would be back and his tail would be starting to swish. Other   
thoughts of Ray with equine connotations suddenly rose unbidden in Ben's mind and he started   
to feel quite warm.  The faintest trace of sweat broke out along his upper lip and he licked it and   
put the soggy pizza back into the box.  "Yes, it is quite warm in here, Ray," he said, sitting back   
carefully on the couch. 

"Jeez, Benny, I just hate it when you do that, you know?" Ray said irritably. 

Here we go, Ben thought with inward satisfaction, and said "What Ray?" 

"Oh no you don't. You don't do that, that,   What Ray?' like you don't know that that drives me   
crazy.  I am talking about that habit of yours of starting to ask me something and then stopping,   
or changing the subject or launching into a damn Inuit story, or what ever. Just come to the damn   
point Benny!" Ray glared at him. 

"Understood." Ben smiled to himself and noted that Ray had not even turned the sound back on,   
even though the commercials were over.  He inclined his head slightly toward the TV and Ray   
glanced over at it, and immediately fumbled with the remote. "See? See? Look what you made   
me do now?" 

"Well Ray, it doesn't seem to matter anyway.  Nothing ever seems to happen in this game.  I   
mean, sure, every once in a while someone throws the ball or tries to hit it with the bat, but most   
of the time it's just boring. And the athletes themselves, well some of them look very unfit."   
Ray looked at him sharply and then returned to watching the game, where the White Sox were   
locked in a scoreless draw.  Ben waited, knowing that Ray would be unable to resist the bait. 

"It's not boring when you know what to look for, Benny.  It ain't basketball or football, but ya   
know, it ain't hockey either.  Baseball's America's game, Benny.  Everybody plays it, and   
everybody can, ya know? At least it ain't a bunch of guys in padded pants beating on each other   
with sticks. Strange, ain't it.  You Canadians are so damned polite, but *your* national sport is   
just one step up from  Challenge of the Gladiators'." 

"Well, that's not exactly true Ray.  Not only are you misrepresenting the essence of the sport of   
hockey, but it isn't Canada's national sport.  I mean, that *is* a popular misconception,   
exacerbated in no small degree by the CBC hockey broadcast "Hockey Night in Canada", but no,   
our official national sport is lacrosse. Of course, there are some who argue that our national sport   
should be curling, but they are, I think, in a minority. Not that there is anything wrong with   
having curling..." 

"Curling?  Curling? What is *curling*?  Something you do with your hair?" Ray looked over at   
Ben. 

"Don't be silly, Ray.  It's a sport developed originally in Scotland, and played on ice, between   
two teams of four. Each team consists of a skip, a vice, and two other team members.  A game   
consists of eight ends and each team has eight rocks per end..." 

"Rocks?  Like what do they do with these rocks? Throw them like the bola and try to knock out   
the other side?" 

"No, no, no, Ray.   You must be thinking of the hammer toss. These rocks weigh about 15 kg   
and have a flattish bottom, a top with a handle and slide on the ice.  It is manipulation of the   
handle upon releasing the rock, usually know as a draw, that allows the player to direct the rock   
and make it curl, hence the name. Of course, once the rock is released, the sweepers can also   
direct the rock to some small degree, and they can also affect whether or not the rock will make   
it into the house, as close as possible to the button. Of course...." 

"Of course nothing, Fraser. I am not going to sit here listening to you wind me up about some   
bizarre Scottish thing with rocks and sweepers and skips.  That is not a sport. Nobody who curls   
is an athlete as far as I am concerned." 

"On the contrary, Ray.  Many curlers are fine athletes and the Briar is one of the most watched   
sports events in Canada." 

"What is the...? No, no, I don't want to hear any more about curling." He turned his attention   
back to the TV, which had once again gone to commercials. He pressed the mute and stood up. 

"Understood Ray." Ben said innocently, looking up at him. 

"Ya want a drink?" Ray asked, heading into the kitchen. "I'm going to get myself a beer." 

"No thank you, Ray."  Ben watched as Ray left the room, savouring the opportunity to watch his   
friend's butt unobserved. Hopefully his admiration would not need to be covert much longer. He   
was sure that Ray was as interested in him as he was in Ray, and he *was* interested. Well, he   
was more than interested, he admitted to himself, he was in love with Ray. The problem was   
how to convince Ray that he, Ben, was interested without Ray getting strange on him. Reading   
the physical signs of Ray's interest in him had proven elementary to Ben's powers of   
observation; it was ascertaining what Ray's mental state was with respect to their potential   
romantic and (hopefully) sexual relationship that was proving to be more difficult. 

Well, no, not really.  After all, if he cast his mind back, he was able to clearly remember   
instances of Ray's emotional commitment to him, but what was bothering him was Ray's   
apparent reticence to act on those physical and emotional states.  He had never known Ray not to   
jump right in if there was something he wanted to do or say. He was getting tired of waiting for   
Ray to make the first move.  On the other hand, his current plan was unfolding more or less as   
designed. 

Sighing slightly, he glanced at the silent commercials. Feeding Dief the last two pieces of pizza,   
he collected the rest of the supper debris and carried it into the kitchen.  His timing was   
impeccable; he met Ray in the narrow corridor between the living room and the kitchen. Ray   
attempted to sidestep when Ben, hands full with cardboard box, plates, cutlery and glasses,   
headed toward him but he was unable to prevent the physical contact necessitated by a   
combination of the small space, and a Mountie with more than helpfulness on his mind. 

"Jeez, Benny.  Whyn't ya leave that stuff put?  After all, part of the pleasure of having the house   
to ourselves this weekend is that we don't need to be neat every minute of the day." Ray looked   
apprehensively down at his shirt, a colourful loose fitting short sleeved silk affair worn out over   
the top of his cotton slacks. "I just hope you didn't get pizza stuff on me.  I mean, every time I   
see you with garbage, I start thinkin' I should have invested in a dry cleaners, ya know?" 

Ben popped his head out of the kitchen door, smiled quickly at Ray and said, "I'll be out in a   
second Ray.  I'm just going to put this away."  Ray shook his head and continued into the living   
room, beer in hand.  He flipped the sound back on, and settled back to watch the game. The score   
was still a scoreless tie, but Chicago, by dint of some fairly impressive pitching by a rookie from   
some Caribbean Island, was enjoying their first no-hitter of the season.  On the other hand, sheer   
bad luck had kept them from scoring and twice they had loaded the bases only to have the   
innings end with the men still on base. 

The thing was, he was having a hard time getting his mind back on the game.  When Benny,   
balancing dinner debris, had brushed past him in the passageway, their brief contact had left   
those areas of Ray's body tingling.  What was worse, as far as Ray was concerned, was that that   
casual contact which, by the way, had somehow managed to neurally connect to both his   
overheated brain and groin, was just that: casual contact.  No motive, no intent, no promise of   
things to come.  Ray had nursed hopes that somehow this weekend he would be able to make   
head or tail (no, don't go there) of his feelings for Benny. 

Well, no, actually, he was pretty clear on where he stood about that.  He had done the   
psychological work on that baby -- the anger, the denial, the depression, he'd had it all, and he   
had finally come to acceptance, and even pride, about how he felt about Benny, about men   
generally.  He realized that even if he never got the nerve up to tell Benny that he was gay and   
that he loved him, he had still managed to find out a lot of the answers to puzzles about himself,   
puzzles that had been nagging him for years before the Mountie had even come to Chicago.   
Clearly this was one of those good news /bad news things.  In his more acerbic moments, Ray   
imagined the dialogue that accompanied his  revelation'. Well Mr. Vecchio, the good news is   
that you are a happy, healthy, well-adjusted homosexual and that none of the crap that happened   
with the women in your life was either your fault or theirs. The bad news is that you will suffer   
from unrequited sexual and romantic love for your very best friend for the rest of your born days.   
  

The problem was just that Benny was so damned virginal. Ray didn't even know how to bring up   
the topic of sex with him without seeming crass and crude.  He knew that if it had been anybody   
else, he would have already put the moves on them, but somehow, he just couldn't find the   
words with Benny.  Maybe, he mused, maybe that's because this one would be for keeps, and   
God knew, he didn't want to screw it up.  Why couldn't Benny just meet him halfway on this?   
Or even, just give him a sign that he wasn't the next best thing to either a monk or a eunuch. The   
sound of the kettle boiling broke his reverie, and he was once again paying at least cursory   
attention to the game when Benny, carrying a small steaming pot of some sort of herbal tea and a   
cup and saucer, came into the living room. 

"Aw Benny, I could've made you a cup of tea while I was out getting the beer.  All you had to   
do was ask." Which, he added to himself, is precisely the problem here.  Benny wouldn't bloody   
ask for anything, not even a cup of tea.  He's not a monk or a eunuch, he's just so self sufficient   
that he doesn't need to have sex simply because it involves other people. His mind strayed in an   
unruly fashion to thoughts of Benny and sex and solo.  He swallowed as the already Benny-sensitized nerve endings in his groin perked up and he felt his underwear suddenly grow a bit   
tighter.   
    
Benny sat down on the other end of the couch and carefully set the tea paraphernalia on the end   
table next to him. Ray shifted back in his seat, trying to accommodate his increasing... ah...   
tumescence.  Ben was peering into the tea pot and fishing around with a teaspoon.  He removed a   
pink stained bit of gauze with a half-dozen leaves in it which Ray assumed to be the tea bag, and   
set it carefully on the edge of the saucer. Ray watched this procedure with a growing sense of   
frustration, both physical and mental.  A long standing coffee drinker, he found himself irritated   
with the relentless puttering of tea drinkers, or at least, one particular tea drinker. Though, in this   
instant at least, the puttering allowed him to regain a modicum of self control, before being   
subjected to Benny's clear blue gaze. It would hardly do to have Mr. Pure's acute gaze   
confronted by a raging hard-on.  A strong offense, Ray reasoned, is the best defence. He returned   
Ben's glance with an equally bland one of his own. "So what is it you wanted to ask me,   
Benny?" 

He didn't notice the slight upturn of Ben's lips which belied the Mountie's pleasure at both   
Ray's physical, ah, discomfort, and question, the latter which at least indicated that the   
conversational pawn had been seized and the verbal game had been rejoined. "Well, Ray, I was   
just wondering if you could explain something about baseball, and perhaps sports in general, to   
me?" 

Ray looked at him warily, clearly sensing another misdirection, but relaxed slightly under the   
full force of Ben's frank blue-eyed gaze. Ray's own gaze softened and he said, "Yeah, sure   
Benny. Go ahead, shoot." 

Ben looked startled. "Shoot what, Ray?" 

Ray could feel the back of his neck tighten, as it invariably did when he had to explain some   
simple, but apparently completely alien, aspect of American culture to Benny. "Jeez Benny, it's   
just an expression, like,  go ahead' or  begin.'" 

Ben stirred his tea again, using the opportunity to remove the tiniest upward quirk of his lips.   
"Well Ray, you see, that's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about." He looked at Ray, who   
appeared puzzled. He expanded slightly. "Sports' expressions as a cultural reference point, as   
idiom, as it were." 

Ray groaned quietly at Benny's question, or rather his lack of a specific question. He hoped he   
wasn't going to have to try to sort through explaining some of the more arcane sports' metaphors   
that peppered American speech to Benny, who, as much as he loved him, could be a real pain in   
the ass when he was on a fact finding mission. Still, it would take his... ah... mind off of other   
things. If truth be told, he rather enjoyed playing cultural tour guide for Benny, though he could   
think of things he would rather give Benny a tour of. 

Ben took Ray's hesitation as a sign of further confusion, and went on to, he thought, helpfully   
elucidate the problem. "You see Ray, I have observed that sports' metaphors seem to form a   
significant portion of the American idiom, not unlike the way in which naval expressions in the   
eighteenth and nineteenth century moved from the specific language on the deck of a ship to   
more general use in everyday language.  In fact, many of these expressions persist today, even   
though few, if any, using the expressions in common conversation understand the original   
referent. Take, for instance, the expression  bitter end,' which as you know is very commonly   
used in current parlance, but which ..." Ray's eyes were starting to glaze over, an expression   
which Ben noted seemed to be a frequent response to his disquisitions. He trailed off   
suggestively, allowing Ray the opportunity to interject. 

"Okay, Benny, okay. What do you want to know?" Ray looked back at the TV. 

"Ray, I think it would be best if I just chose some expressions that I have had trouble with in the   
past.  I find it interesting that baseball seems to have given rise to quite a number of these   
metaphors, disproportionately many if you ask me, and since we are watching the game, you   
could show me exactly where they come from.  For instance," Ben paused, looking at Ray, "For   
instance, left field, as in  out in left field'." 

Ray patiently explained the connection between the position  left field' and the expression for   
something out of the ordinary, or unexpected. Benny, predictably, was obtuse about the   
connection between the expression and the position and said, "Well Ray, if it is so unexpected   
that someone would hit a ball to that part of the field, why is there a field position called  left   
field'?  Wouldn't it make sense to just move that player somewhere else, where there are more   
balls to catch?" 

Ray felt the swampy waters starting to close over his head but gamely asked Benny what other   
expressions he needed help with.  Benny had a number of questions, and Ray, after a while,   
found that he was enjoying using the expressions to illustrate some of the finer (he thought)   
points of the game of baseball. 

Ben let Ray talk about baseball, listening as he explained ERA's and RBI's even though they   
weren't strictly part of the exploration of sports' metaphors. He enjoyed Ray's enthusiasm for   
the topic, and took pleasure in seeing how emotionally wrapped up Ray had become in a game   
which, as far as he could see, still stood at a scoreless draw and which consisted of occasional   
flurries of activity interspersed among interminable lengths of time when nothing at all appeared   
to be going on. 

Soon, very soon, he would make his move. Careful manouvering on his part had placed Ray,   
unguarded and unsuspecting, within reach of his trap.  The conversation became not specifically   
limited to baseball metaphors, and Ray and Ben explored some of the origins of phrases like   
 behind the eight ball',  on the ropes',  sidelined', and  blind sided'. After a particularly long   
explanation of  here's mud in your eye', during which he felt compelled to add an analogous   
Inuit story, Ben returned to the matter at hand.   
  

"Ray, there are some other baseball expressions that I've been wondering about." He looked   
over at Ray. "Well, they're actually fairly simple expressions, which on the surface would seem   
to be very obvious, but I wasn't familiar with the context in which they were being used."  Ray,   
still unsuspecting, nodded absently, and concentrated on the last official inning of the game. Ben   
paused, and when he could see  Ray starting to make  get on with it' hand motions, he knew that   
this was it. Strangely, now that the moment was at hand, he felt, not exactly *nervous*, but,   
perhaps just a little apprehensive. He took a deep breath "Take for instance the expression,   
 getting to first base', as in  three months and he hasn't even got to first base yet.' Since, as I   
understand it, the bases are at most 20 metres apart, it would seem unlikely that they were   
referring to an actual game of baseball." 

Ray looked at Benny and instead of answering, asked, " Well, as you know Benny, context is   
every thing with these expressions.  Where did you hear it used like that?" 

"I overheard Detective Huey talking to another detective in the men's washroom.  They didn't   
know I was there.  They appeared to be talking about one of the DA.'s in connection with Ms.   
St. Laurent." 

"I'm sure they were, Benny, I'm sure they were." Ray paused briefly, trying to figure out the   
right way to go about explaining to Benny the prevalence of sports expressions which function   
as sexual metaphors. "It's like this, Benny.  Sometimes these sports expressions are applied to...   
ah... dating and things like that." 

Ben nodded to himself, chewed on the inner part of his lower lip, and looked at Ray, his brow   
slightly creased. "So what you are saying then is that what detectives were referring to was the   
desire of the DA in question to date Ms. St Laurent?" 

"No, well, yeah. Sorta.  It's more like the utter failure of the said DA to even get Louise to go   
out with him." Ray felt quite pleased with this summing up. He was completely unprepared for   
Ben's next comment. 

"I suppose that the reason he is persisting in these unsuccessful attempts is related to the fact that   
he doesn't know Ms. St. Laurent is a lesbian?" 

"Yeah ...." Ray's head snapped around when his brain registered what Benny had said. "What?   
What? *Louise* is a *dyke*? No way!  How'd you find that out?" This conversation had just   
taken one of those strange bounces which were not unheard of when Benny was involved.  If you   
thought about it, Benny was the definition of "out in left field" sometimes.  Ray dragged his   
mind back to the conversation. 

"It's quite simple Ray, if you know what to look for. And Ms. St. Laurent clearly prefers   
 lesbian', though I am aware that many women so inclined have reclaimed the term  dyke' as a   
political statement." Ben could feel himself starting to digress; after all, he thought Ray knew   
about Ms. St. Laurent.  However, realizing that focus was of great importance, he pulled himself   
back to the topic at hand. "But that's not the point here Ray.  We were talking about what   
 getting to first base' means in a dating context." 

Ray's brain was spinning. Benny had just told him that Louise was a dyke, no, sorry, *lesbian*,   
and that he, Benny, was what looked like a seasoned lesbian spotter. Though come to think of it,   
Louise was one of the few women he knew who was completely immune to Benny's charms, and   
even his own minor attempts at flirting with her had met with absolutely no success.  Of course   
one couldn't generalize. After all, Monique, one of the uniforms, was as dykey as they come and   
she *and* her girlfriend flirted with him outrageously. He shook his head.  This whole   
conversation was getting too weird for words. On the other hand, he thought, here was Mr. Pure   
talking knowledgeably about homosexual issues, so maybe there was some hope yet. He   
wouldn't have given anyone odds on having the words  lesbian' or  dyke' come out of Benny's   
mouth, so who knew. 

"Ray!" Ray shook his head and looked at Ben with what Ben had mentally tagged as his  bug-eyed' look. "Ray, about the expression?" 

"Yeah, right Benny, the expression, right." He took a deep breath and collected his scattered   
thoughts -- scattered, hell, pulverized would be a better word.  " First of all, getting to first base   
is part of a whole series of similar expressions, like, well, getting to second base and  so on,   
until, ah, well until..." 

"Until you get to fourth base, right?" Ben looked at Ray, waiting. 

"No, well, yes, but you see, it's called home plate, not fourth base, so the expression there should   
be  getting home'.  But usually at that point, the expression would be, well,  scoring'." Ray   
waited for the penny to drop. Benny continued to look at Ray, clearly waiting for more   
information. " From  scoring a run', Benny." 

Benny appeared to be processing this information, but Ray knew better than to assume that this   
would be the end of the questioning. He was right. "Ray, does that mean...?  I mean, does   
 scoring' indicate...?" Benny took a deep breath, collecting himself. Ray watched with a certain   
amount of satisfaction at Benny's discomfort. 

Ben cleared his throat, which for some reason had become remarkably dry. "Ray, am I correct in   
assuming that  scoring' means that sexual intercourse took place?" 

"Yes Benny, that would be a correct assumption." Ray smiled to himself, Mr. Pure was right.   
Benny was blushing just saying  sexual intercourse'. God knew what would happen to him if he   
were to say some of the things Ray was longing to hear from his lips, things like, "suck me" and   
"fuck me" and "let me fuck you". Ray's own discomfort increased dramatically as well, though   
his seemed to be more localized than Benny's. 

"And does it always mean that? I mean, does scoring always mean what I said it does and  does   
 getting to first base' always mean the same thing?" Ben noticed that Ray seemed to be enjoying   
this part of the conversation. And though he wasn't exactly relaxed, shifting about on the couch,   
he did look, Ben thought,  extremely kissable. 

" I think that I can help you out here, Benny. These expressions can be quite personal, ya know.   
Like, personally I take  getting to first base' to mean having asked someone I'm interested in   
out, that person having accepted my invitation, us going out, and then us, that is myself and that   
person, agreeing to meet again." He watched to see what sort of an effect this explanation was   
having on Benny.  Benny appeared to be studying the pattern on the rim of his cup. Ray decided   
to press forward, warming to his topic, as it were. "Other guys got other standards.  Jeez, I   
remember a guy I knew in police college, Brian was his name. Man, that guy was so slow when   
it came to dating. Ya know, it'd take him all evening in a bar to make eye contact. Someone like   
Brian,  first base' would be finding out the person's name.   Course it didn't help that Brian's   
best buddy was a guy named Don.  Now his first base, well it was somewhere between when he   
asked the person to go out to the parking lot and when they got into the back seat of his car. Real   
sleazy." 

Ray chuckled softly remembering that Don had married a woman who had his balls so tight in a   
vice that he never even went out for a beer after work these days. Smart woman. Then he did   
some mental arithmetic and determined that if his personal definition of "first base" held true, he   
and Benny had been in a holding pattern there for approximately two years. 

Ben had been watching Ray through demurely lowered lashes, and he calculated that by Ray's   
personal definition of  first base', they had been stranded there for the past two years as well.   
And if Ray kept reminiscing about the sexual habits of ex-colleagues from police college, he   
would get sidetracked.  Time to move the conversation forward. "If I understand you correctly,   
Ray, each person's definition is somewhat different, and therefore, it might be difficult, even   
confusing, to use these terms in conversation without exploring the exact parameters of their   
specific definition." 

"Yes Benny, it might well be confusing." Ray noticed that Benny was not as uncomfortable with   
the topic and situation as he had initially seemed to be. 

"So how do you know, without asking someone what they meant by  first base', what they   
meant?" 

"Benny, it's just a guy sorta thing. I mean, ya just know the sorta range of things that go on. It's   
hard to explain, that's all. I mean, a guy asks another one what happened during a date and the   
other guy says,  well, ya know, I got to second base and then the phone rang, ruined the mood   
completely' they're telling each other something without telling them, if ya know what I mean?" 

Ben paused a moment, considering Ray's explanation. Perhaps that was the sort of information   
Ray had been asking for when he had asked Ben about Francesca.  That clearly hadn't been even   
a first base situation, he thought with relief.  "Yes, I think I do, Ray. So then, it wouldn't really   
work for trying to negotiate a romantic or sexual encounter." Ray's eyebrows shot up and he   
looked startled, but Ben continued.  "I mean, you couldn't just say to a person in whom you have   
a romantic or sexual interest,  well, I'd like to get to second base with you', could you?"  Ray   
was speechless, but shook his head slightly.  Ben plunged on. "No, I thought not. One would   
clearly have to ascertain what the other person meant by second base before making any sort of   
suggestion at all along those lines." 

"Ah, Benny..." Ray finally had found his vocal cords, though they seemed a little tight. "Benny,   
these are not the sort of expressions that you use with the person you are having sex with. They   
are used for talking about sex afterwards, with other people." 

"Oh, I see."  Benny had gotten that sort of mulish look on his face which Ray associated with   
awkward supplemental questions that usually indicated that Benny didn't see at all. "You mean   
that there are never instances when one person might say to the other, knowing of course exactly   
what was meant by the term,  I'd like to get to second base with you?'" 

"No, Benny, I don't think there are." There was something going on with this line of   
questioning.  Ray was sure of it and decided to push things a little bit, just to see which way the   
wind was blowing, as it were. "You have to understand Benny, women hate it when they are   
discussed in a way which they think equates them with being sexual objects. And,  getting to   
second base', that is sexual objectification, big time." 

He watched as Benny carefully considered what he had just said.  The crease in Benny's brow   
eased, and his face cleared a little. Ray decided that he certainly wouldn't mind a little sexual   
objectification if Benny was the object, or the objectifier, for that matter. He shifted his position,   
trying not to imagine exploring  second base' with Benny: lights down low, jazz on the CD   
player, a lot less clothing, a lot more necking, kissing, groping, his mouth on Benny's, Benny's   
hand on his (now all too aching) cock... Damn, how was he going to get up from the couch when   
he was as hard as a rock without Benny noticing? 

"I suppose that makes a certain amount of sense if this romantic encounter is between a woman   
and a man, but what about a romantic or sexual encounter between two men, both of whom knew   
what the other meant by the expressions. Do you think that might prove to be an exception to the   
rule? Would that necessarily be objectification, Ray?"  Ray's heart surged and his already hard   
cock pressed uncomfortably into his underwear.  Even he couldn't miss the direction Benny's   
questions were headed.  Clearly Benny had something on his mind, and all the indications were   
that it was the same thing that Ray had on his mind. 

 When he replied, Ray's voice was a little husky, though not bad considering the state of his   
nether regions, he thought. "Put like that, in the right circumstances, between a couple of guys, I   
don't think that there would be a problem, Benny." 

Ray's arousal was clearly apparent to Ben, and he knew, from the way that Ray had answered his   
last question, that his worries about Ray's reluctance were unfounded.  He might be very much   
mistaken, but Ray seemed to be accepting about what he had been mentally calling the  gay   
factor.'  There was still, however, the problem of how to make the first move, and since Ben   
didn't really know what Ray considered  second base' to consist of, he was reluctant to make   
that suggestion.  He also needed to consider exactly what *he* thought it meant. He supposed   
that it would involve them moving closer together on the couch, cuddling, touching, kissing   
even. He wondered what Ray's lips would taste like.  Probably a little like beer and a lot like   
how Ray smelled, a citrusy and warm, and they would be soft and gentle, and his mouth would   
be wet and hot, and his tongue ...  Ben's thoughts seemed to have a direct connection to his   
groin, and the fullness there indicated the degree of his own arousal.  He felt his face grow warm   
at this public (well, relatively) display of the depth of his feelings for Ray.  He supposed that he   
could always come right out and tell Ray he loved him, that he had loved him for a long time;   
but Ben's own natural reticence and his desire for Ray to make an emphatic statement of his   
intentions combined to prevent him from making an outright declaration. 

"Ray?" His normally even voice was a bit ragged, and his breathing just a shade uneven, but Ben   
was determined to press on.  Ray turned toward Ben, his face flushed, his need for Ben and for   
release apparent in his eyes.  Ben's own skin temperature seemed to jump suddenly in response   
to Ray's unspoken desire and he felt a wonderful intense sweetness starting to blossom in his   
chest. "Ray," he said huskily, swallowing awkwardly, "What do you mean by second base?" 

"Why do you want to know, Benny?"  Ray asked softly, looking into Benny's lust darkened   
eyes, moving imperceptibly slowly toward Benny's oh so soft, just barely parted lips, drinking in   
Benny's scent, just the faintest hint of sweet man-sweat, Mountie issue soap, and line dried   
flannel. He was drowning on dry land and he didn't give a damn. 

"I think you know why, Ray."  Ben leaned toward Ray, the flush which had started on his body   
spreading rapidly up his neck and face. He felt as though he were floating, buoyed along by the   
swirling current of his desire, drawn to Ray's eyes, Ray's hands, Ray's lips. 

"I think I do too, Benny." Ray closed the distance between them and, ever so gently, brushed his   
lips against Benny's. 

*** 

The contact of lips on sweet lips was so brief, so fleeting, as to have been almost non-existent,   
but the physical effects of the kiss were anything but non-existent. Ray and Ben drew back   
slightly. They were both breathing hard, lips slightly parted, eyes unfocussed as they moved   
together again. This time the kiss lasted longer, lips seeking each other out almost of their own   
volition. Ray extended his right hand to rest lightly on the back of Benny's neck, drawing them   
closer together, stroking the muscle and tendons, feeling the flush on Benny's skin, the damp   
tendrils of dark hair at the base of Benny's perfect skull. Reluctantly they broke contact, their   
lips hovering scant centimetres apart before coming together again. 

Ben's right hand rested lightly on Ray's shoulder feeling the warmth of Ray's skin through the   
soft silk, a skin on top of skin, feeling the precise bone beneath a firm layer of muscle. This   
tangible connection with Ray's flesh gave Ben at least some semblance of control. He knew it   
was absurd, but it seemed to him that without this psychological brace, he would be swept away   
by what was happening, drawn into the vortex generated by Ray's lips, by the gentle pressure on   
the back of his neck, by the feeling of kissing and being kissed, collapsing in upon himself until   
there was nothing left but his desire for Ray. The wonderful sweet sensation in his chest   
threatened to engulf him completely. He felt as though all the oxygen had been removed from   
the air and molecules of Ray had replaced it; and while his lungs might not be able to sustain life   
on this mixture, he knew that it was all his heart had ever needed. 

Ray's other hand had found its way to the small of Ben's back and was slipping between the   
carefully tucked flannel shirt and Ben's jeans. Ben drew back a little, breaking contact with   
Ray's mouth. His own lips, however, possessed by a desire all their own (well, not exactly all   
their own, he reflected), seemed determined to remain in contact with Ray whatever the cost in   
terms of Ben's virtue or brain cells. Ray responded to Ben's movement by withdrawing his hand   
gently.  His voice, breaking the silence of the last few minutes, (or was it hours, Ben thought, all   
sense of time escaping him), was hoarse, his lips so close to Ben's that Ben felt almost as much   
as heard Ray say, "It's okay Benny, I just want to feel your skin, that's all. You always look like   
you've just been gift wrapped, ya know. And since it seems as though I'm the designated present   
opener here, I'd better get started. You okay with that?" 

Ben nodded wordlessly, his eyes dark, his lips moving once again to connect with Ray's. He   
experimentally slid his tongue through the part in his lips, brushing it against Ray's lips, tasting   
him, feeling his lips in turn open slightly. Ray's mouth was hot, and wet, and his tongue almost   
shyly met Ben's, tips touching, tasting, allowing Ben's tongue to run over the oh so smooth   
surface of the inside of Ray's mouth. Ray groaned into Ben's mouth as Ben swirled his tongue   
over Ray's palate. 

Ray couldn't believe what was happening to him, he had both arms around Benny and Mr. Pure,   
that is Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police Constable, had his surprisingly active   
tongue half way down his, Ray's, throat. He could die happy now, he thought.  Well, no, he   
reconsidered, if there was more like this to come, and he just knew that there was, he didn't want   
to forfeit a minute of it. 

His hand which had been resting on Benny's back, just above the waistband of Benny's jeans,   
once again slipped down between jeans and shirt.  Ray could feel the dampness of the flannel   
hugging the top of Benny's buttocks under his fingers as they searched for the hem of the shirt.   
Where the hell was it, he thought, did Benny stitch it to his underwear to repel boarders?  Ah,   
finally, his fingers touched the rolled edge of the hem and carefully he pulled the shirt tail out of   
the pants, his hand slipping up along Benny's back between the now untucked shirt and the still   
firmly (damn) tucked undershirt.  Sighing mentally, but still determined, Ray untucked the   
undershirt by the simple expedient of grabbing a handful and tugging it up.  Finally, finally, bare   
skin, Benny's bare skin, sweat slick, soft skin under his fingertips, something real to convince   
him that he wasn't just in the middle of the most incredible wet dream. 

He skimmed his fingertips on either side of Benny's spine, going as far up as he could, given the   
amount of clothing, and gently, very gently indeed, drawing his fingernails down along Benny's   
back.  He was rewarded with a quiet moan, and Benny moved closer to him, his hand finding the   
edge of Ray's shirt and sliding beneath it.  The skin on Ray's abdomen shivered as Benny's light   
touch caressed it, his hand moving slowly around to rest on Ray's waist, just above his belt, a   
solid warm weight, reassuringly present. 

Ray just had to get closer to Benny, a sort of full body closer, and if anything stood in his way at   
the moment, it was Benny's right hand which had stubbornly refused to move from his shoulder;   
but Ray had plans for that.  He took Benny's  hand in his, removing it from his shoulder, and   
brought it to his lips.  Gently holding Benny's hand, he bent his mouth to take the tip of Benny's   
index finger carefully between his teeth, just brushing the sensitive tip with his tongue. He loved   
Benny's hands: strong, square, gentle, sooo damn sexy. 

Benny shifted on the couch, the distance between their torsos decreasing, their body contact   
increasing. Lifting Benny's hand slightly, he nibbled along its outer edge, licking the inside of   
Benny's wrist, exploring the little indentation on Ben's wrist made by the tendons going to his   
thumb, tracing his tongue up the creamy inside of Benny's forearm, kissing, licking, and nipping   
the sensitive skin. He watched as Benny's normally demure features became kindled with the   
sort of desire that Ray could only have dreamed about. Who would have guessed that Benny had   
such a sensual side to him? Certainly not Ray, even though he had entertained hopeless fantasies   
in which Benny's desires had matched his own. 

Ben moaned as Ray's left hand traced small circles on his back, while his fingers were slowly   
sucked into the hot wetness of Ray's mouth. He closed his eyes, and allowed his mind to drift on   
the myriad sensations Ray's fingers and tongue were producing. The hot mouth left his fingers   
and the cooler air on his wet skin created an interesting contrast.  Before he could move, his   
mouth was once again covered with Ray's, and Ray's teeth pulled gently at his lower lip,   
nibbling and gnawing, as his right hand cupped the back of Ben's neck again.  Ben's right hand   
moved, apparently of its own accord, to rest on Ray's waist.  It seemed the most natural thing in   
the world to draw Ray's lithe body forwards, to reach around behind Ray and pull him close. 

Ray, apparently, had other plans. He started to lean backwards and the pressure on Ben's neck,   
and Ben's own desire not to lose the sweet contact with Ray's mouth, encouraged Ben to follow   
his lead. Ray slowly and gracefully sank into the deep cushions of the couch and Ben followed   
him down, stopping to keep his full weight off  Ray. Clearly, however, this was not what Ray   
had in mind.  The firm pressure on the small of his back and on his neck indicated exactly how   
much of Ben Ray wanted to have contact with. Alarmed, Ben reluctantly pulled his mouth from   
Ray's. "Ray, don't. I can't. I'll crush you." His voice felt rusty, like he hadn't spoken in months,   
which, when he thought about it, didn't seem all that unlikely.  He had been kissing Ray forever,   
hadn't he?  He was almost surprised to realize that his lips, tongue and mouth had other uses   
than simply kissing Ray. Surely that sort of memory loss could not have taken place over only a   
few minutes, could it? 

"Benny, don't you worry about it. You can't hurt me here. All I want is to feel you on top of me.   
All of you, on top of all of me,  cos ya know, you feel *so* good." Ray grinned up at Benny, and   
let the hand on Benny's back drift downward to caress Benny's buttocks through the rough   
fabric of the jeans. 

Benny, who had been somewhat gingerly lowering his weight onto Ray, gasped as the pressure   
Ray put on his buttocks pushed his erection into contact with Ray's. Ray moaned softly, and   
murmured into his ear, "You see how good it feels?" Then Ray drew the tip of his tongue down   
along the side of Benny's neck until he was able to gently bite the web of muscle just above   
Benny's collarbone. He moved the hand from the back of Benny's neck and slid it and its   
companion under the waistband of Benny's jeans, under the elastic of his boxers, until they   
cupped his smooth firm buttocks. 

Ray could tell that Benny was still not completely comfortable with lying on him; he kept   
shifting his position ever so slightly, but he made no attempt to get up, and the contact between   
their groins was so... ah... stimulating, that Ray felt sure that he was going to embarrass himself   
in a way that he hadn't since he was in high school. Benny had slid one leg in between Ray's   
legs and it was all Ray could do not to hump Benny's thigh like Fido the dog. Not that he was   
sure Benny would mind; there were some pretty humpy movements coming from Mr, Pure's   
hips, and Benny's mouth had once again claimed Ray's in a manner that left little doubt as to his   
intentions. 

Benny's hands, freed from Ray's waist had made their way up Ray's torso, still cupping Ray's   
sides, thumbs brushing gently over Ray's nipples. Ray groaned. Well, drop kick me Jesus   
through the goal posts of life, he thought, I *am* dying happy. Ray dug his nails into Benny's   
buttocks at the same time as the phone rang. 

*** 

Both Ray and Ben groaned. Ben removed his hands from Ray's chest as though lightning had   
struck him and struggled to push himself off the couch, a procedure not helped by the fact that   
Ray still had his hands in Ben's jeans, grasping Ben's buttocks firmly.  The phone kept ringing,   
and Ben, somewhat wild-eyed, asked "Ray, that's the phone, aren't you going to answer it?" 

In spite of himself, Ray had to laugh at Benny's reaction. Mind you, it was typical of Benny's   
reaction to technology generally: completely typical for Benny to assume that you had to make   
your self available to answer the phone regardless of what you were doing. On the other hand, as   
the phone continued to ring, he wished he had availed himself of some of technology's bells and   
whistles and turned the damn thing off. Of course, he hadn't predicted that he was going to end   
up making out on the couch with the (no longer) unrequited love of his life. 

"Don't worry Benny, the answering machine will pick up in a couple of rings, whoever it is on   
the phone, which, if I ever find out who it is, I will hunt down and kill, personally, that person   
will hang up and then we can get back to what we were doing. " He wiggled his hips a little, just   
to make sure that Benny didn't forget what it was they were doing. He was rewarded with Benny   
lying back down, albeit still gingerly. They heard the answering machine pick up and Ray   
silently cursed the day he thought up that stupid Miranda type answering message. It had seemed   
funny at the time, but now, with Benny lying on top of him, their erections at the ready, a simple   
 leave the number, goodbye' would have been more than adequate. 

Instead, they listened to Rays's voice saying:   
"You have reached, 555-0637, you have the right to leave your number, if you waive this right,   
no one will return your call; you have the right leave the time of your call, if you do not,  don't   
blame us if we don't get back to you on time; and you have the right to leave a message, if you   
chose not to, we will take turns making up a suitable message for you. If you understand and   
agree to all these rights, feel free to leave number, time, and message at the beep." 

"Raimondo?" Ray groaned, Benny groaned, and Dief, who had abandoned the living room   
during the two humans' mating ritual, poked his head around the corner from the hallway and   
whined, pleased to hear from that particular human. Mrs. Vecchio's long distance voice   
continued, "Caro, are you there? I tried your cell phone first, but it isn't answering, so I assume   
that you are out and haven't taken the phone or you are already in bed..." 

No ma, just wishing I was born an orphan, Ray thought with vehemence. Benny had struggled up   
and was sitting on the edge of the couch looking dishevelled. God, he looks good like that, Ray   
groaned. 

Benny mouthed, "Shouldn't you answer the phone?" at Ray. Sometimes he is such a boy scout,   
Ray thought, not without affection. He sighed, sat up, and picked up the phone, turning the   
answering machine off. 

"Yeah, ma?" His voice was thick with lust and he hoped that she wouldn't be able to   
differentiate between that and his normal grumpy voice. As if hoping something like that ever   
worked. She probably had some sort of direct psychic link to all her kids, so she knew what they   
were getting up to.  Christ she probably knew exactly when to call for maximum frustration   
value. No, he was getting paranoid, jeez, get a grip, Vecchio, he thought. Then he groaned when   
he realized what sort of a grip he needed at this point. 

"Caro, is that you? Are you okay?" Her voice sounded anxious. 

"Yeah, ma, fine. No problems. What's up?" He looked at his lap, and this time at least managed   
to stifle his groan. Benny, damn his socks, was laughing at him. He mouthed, "shut up" at him,   
and tossed one of the cushions at his head, missing. 

"Have you got a woman there, Ray?" Mrs. Vecchio's voice was sharp. 

"No, ma, no woman. Just Benny. We're watching the game." Ray explained patiently. Benny   
sidled closer to Ray and whispered in Ray's ear, his hot breath tickling Ray's ear, "Liar, Liar,   
Pants on Fire."  Ray covered the mouth piece and groaned again. It just so happened that his   
pants did feel as though they were on fire, but he didn't need some over-grown juvenile with a   
penchant for stupid sayings pointing it out, even if he did love him to pieces. 

"Benny, you're not helping," Ray muttered through clenched teeth as Benny slid his tongue   
around the rim of Ray's ear. 

"So, why'd ya call, Ma?" he asked, removing his hand from the mouth piece. Benny had relented   
and was settling back on the cushions. Ray was already plotting his revenge and he almost didn't   
hear his mother's next words. 

"Ray, your sister is on her way home. She left about an hour ago, so she should be there   
about..." 

"What?" Ray's voice rose several octaves in the course of  the single syllable. "Franny? coming   
home? here? tonight?" Benny fell over backwards onto the couch, covering his face with the   
cushion Ray had tossed at him and groaning.   
    
"As I was saying, she should be there anytime, depending on the traffic, of course. But the   
reason I called was because she left her purse here, and of course, I didn't want her to worry   
about where it was." It all made perfect sense to Ray. There was a cruel and arbitrary God and   
she, he was sure it was a she, had his number, big time. 

"Yeah, Ma. I'll tell her when she gets here. " Right before I kill her, he added to himself. Still, he   
couldn't imagine what would have happened if Franny had walked in five minutes ago, so he   
guessed he should be thankful for a warning at least. 

"You're a good boy, Raimondo. Good night Caro. And say good night to Benton too." 

"I will ma, and you have a good night too." 

He hung up the phone and looked at Benny, who was sitting up again, looking, well, edible, hair   
wild, shirt untucked and rucked up at the back, flushed, sexy. Unfortunately, his *fucking* sister   
was all but on the doorstep, no doubt driving back all the way from Holiday Acres, Illinois   
hoping to catch Benny on his way to bed so she could waylay him, and he and Benny were in a   
state of terminal heat, and there was nothing to be done about it now. Why couldn't someone just   
shoot him now, he thought bitterly, hanging his head. 

"Ray, I assume from your conversation that Francesca will be coming back here tonight." Ben   
looked at Ray, thinking that he was quite possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

Ray glanced up."Yeah, she's due in at any moment, flying in on her broomstick. Talk about   
lousy timing." 

"Oh dear, that soon." Ben's eyes never left Ray's face. He understood Ray's frustration at the   
way in which their love-making (yes, love-making, his heart sang) had been interrupted. He felt   
it himself, and yet... And yet, he was sure that what had happened tonight wasn't going to change   
tomorrow or the next day, and perhaps, just perhaps, a bit of a delay would give them time to   
talk about what was happening with their relationship, regardless of what his traitorous groin   
was feeling just at this moment. He gently cupped Ray's chin in his hand and lifted Ray's face   
up.  Then he leaned forward and kissed Ray chastely on the lips. Ray looked at him, doubt and   
disappointment clearly fighting a battle with reason and elation in his eyes. 

"Ray, nothing is any different than it was ten minutes ago.  I want..." Ben took a deep breath, "I   
want to make love with you Ray, but it looks like it won't happen tonight, will it?" Ray nodded,   
and swallowed hard. Ben continued, "The most important thing, for me at least, is that you want   
to make love with me, as well." Ray nodded again, and Ben was relieved to see that Ray was   
visibly less tense.  He smiled, as he leaned forward to meet Ray's lips again. Ray's hand came up   
under Ben's shirt and trailed along his spine. Ben inadvertently shivered. If they didn't stop,   
Francesca would walk in on them even with a warning. 

"I want that too, Benny." Ray's voice was almost back to normal. He touched Benny's face with   
his fingers, tracing the planes of Benny's cheek.  He still couldn't believe what had happened.  In   
someways, now that he was over his initial hormone enhanced funk, the sort of idiocy that this   
 return of Fanny' signified only served to convince him that this hadn't all been a dream.  Things   
this stupid never happen in dreams, he told himself mentally.  He supposed that they could take   
off and go to Benny's place, but he also realized that they might need to do some talking first.   
He had come dangerously close to just letting lust have its head, not that that would have been   
necessarily a bad thing, his groin reminded him, but still, as this one was for keeps, it might   
behoove him not to screw it up by rushing things. 

They heard a car pull into the driveway, and a car door slam, then the trunk popped open and   
they could here the soft muttering of Francesca's stream of consciousness monologue. They both   
stood up; Ray turned to Ben, and said, "I don't think that seeing you in that... ah... condition,   
would do you any favours with Franny. She'd probably jump your bones right here." Ben   
laughed, considering how close Ray himself had been to doing just that. Ray continued, "If you   
feel like it, I have somewhere I would like to take you tomorrow. There is someone there that I   
want you to meet. And the bonus is that we would have to be out of the house before Franny gets   
up. I'll get us up in time, okay?" 

"Ray, I ...ah.... we..." Ben heard the trunk slam shut and the sound of Francesca's heels on the   
concrete of the walkway beside the house. 

"Yeah, Benny. I know. We can talk about it tomorrow. We *need* to talk about it tomorrow."   
Ray leaned forward and quickly kissed Benny's lips. "Now go to bed and sweet dreams, Benny,   
sweet dreams." He snickered wickedly and pushed Ben in the direction of the guest room just as   
they heard the key in the kitchen door lock. "Oh, and Benny?" Benny turned to look back at Ray   
questioningly. Ray smiled broadly, "Welcome to second base." 

*** 

After Benny left the room, Ray took stock of both his own physical condition and the condition   
of the couch.  Fortunately the game was still on and the commentators were nattering softly   
about the bottom of the eleventh inning.  Ray collapsed backwards onto the couch and put his   
feet up on the coffee table. He could hear Fanny kicking off her shoes in the kitchen and then the   
clunk of something heavy being dumped on the kitchen table. 

"Hello?  Ray? Is anybody home?" then somewhat lower in tone, "not that he's home even when   
he is home, so why should anything change. Oh hi Dief. Where's Benton? That might be the   
only thing worth while about this damn road trip from hell, but then, even I can read the writing   
on the wall there, can't I." Ray listened intently, wondering what sort of writing was on the wall.   
He heard the fridge door open and Franny pop open a drink, diet coke most likely, and then the   
door shut again. Dief whined and Franny said, "Oh, sorry fella.  Here's a bit of toaster strudel for   
you, lots of icing on this piece." Dief whined again and then Ray heard the distinct sound of a   
wolf inhaling toaster strudel and licking his chops. 

Franny continued talking, "Of course, I just met this life guard today, my God, shoulders to die   
for, and you know, Dief, he actually noticed I was female. Such a relief,  cos, no offence   
intended, but that Benton might as well be a priest for all the good he's done me, and you know,   
a girl has the right to be appreciated a little, doesn't she.  The life guard on the other hand..." 

Ray had heard more than enough of Franny's heart to heart with Dief and he certainly didn't   
want to know what his sister had gotten up to, or was planning to get up to with any life guard in   
Illinois.  He called from the living room, trying to sound as though he had been asleep, "That   
you, Franny?" 

He heard the sound of Franny choking on her drink, and the swearing that accompanied the   
coughing which followed was quite colourful. Serves her right, he thought maliciously.  She   
appeared in the doorway of the living room, hands on her hips demanding, "Whatsa matter with   
you? You can't say  Hi Franny, I'm in the living room' when I come in? Instead, you scare the   
daylights out of me and make me snort diet coke up my nose.  Ma's right, sometimes you got no   
manners, Ray. Besides, you could have come out and helped me with taking that damn cooler   
out of the trunk. I think I broke a nail." 

Ray got up and stretched, shutting off the TV. "You think you're pissed? What about me?   
Barging in here when you're supposed to be at the cottage. I was asleep and I didn't hear you   
come in.  By the way, Ma called earlier, said you left your purse at the cottage. Figured you'd   
worry about where it was." 

"Did she tell you which freezer the damn lasagne is in?" 

"What?" Another perfect example of left field, Ray thought. 

"I'm here, dear brother, on a mission from our mother.  We are having some people over at the   
cottage for supper tomorrow, and Ma figured that it would be easiest to just heat up some of her   
lasagne. The salads and stuff she can do at the cottage, but real cooking, you know her, no way   
was that poky little kitchen big enough.  SO as you can guess, guess who got nominated to drive   
home to fetch the lasagne."She sighed, "At least it isn't kissing butchers *this* time. So I gather   
she didn't bother to tell you which freezer the lasagne was in? Oh well, we'll just have to hunt   
for it. Come on, brother dearest, let's go sort through the freezers." 

Hope swelled in Ray's heart. Maybe Franny was going to head right back to the cottage, now,   
tonight. "What's the rush Franny? Are you going back tonight?" He tried to keep the hope out of   
his voice. 

"No, I just got strict instructions, take the lasagne out tonight, and put it in the cooler. That way   
it will defrost slowly, and there will be less chance that anyone will know that she didn't whip it   
up on the spot using a cracked cup and a dessert fork.  You know how Ma is. If it ain't fresh   
made, its like she's going to get found out by the good housekeeping police." Franny shrugged.   
"I'll head back tomorrow, before noon. Why, you want to come along? You'd have to sleep on   
the couch though." 

Ray shook his head. "Naw, Benny and I are going out to a ball game early tomorrow morning."   
Hold onto that thought Vecchio, he thought, and you'll not be involved in a messy domestic   
murder. 

Franny rolled her eyes at him, and turned to head into the hallway. "You men, all you can think   
about are games with balls in them." Ray had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing out loud.   
If only Franny knew how right she was, he thought.  Regaining his somewhat limited   
composure, he followed her into the hall way and down into the basement where the three   
Vecchio freezers were kept. 

Yes there is a hell, he thought as he pressed his swollen erection against the sides of three   
different freezers attempting to locate the elusive lasagne, and it is people who are related to you.   
By the time he had extracted the three 9 X 13 pans, carefully wrapped in foil and tied with string,   
his groin was throbbing and he personally wanted to hunt down and kill, not necessarily in any   
particular order, his sister, his mother, whoever was coming for supper tomorrow, and the idiot   
who had designed chest freezers.   He rather ungraciously dumped the lasagne on the kitchen   
table once they had emerged from the basement, saying, "There, you go Franny. I won't be   
seeing you tomorrow. Good night." 

As he went up the stairs, he heard Franny yell, "Good night, brother," and then resume her rather   
one-sided conversation with Dief. Walking past the guest room, he heard the shower running in   
the guest room bathroom: no doubt Benny taking care of unfinished business.  He closed the   
door to his bedroom, and leaned his back against it, his mind turning over the events of the last   
two hours. He caught sight of himself in the mirror across the room, and noted  the cat that ate   
the canary' grin that was plastered across his face.  In spite of everything, he kept coming back   
to the realization that he had just spent the better part of an hour on the couch, making out with   
Benny, who, all prior evidence to the contrary, could make out like a bandit. He couldn't   
remember the last time he had had so much fun with his clothes *on*, and he had every   
expectation that they would have as much fun or more tomorrow with their clothes *off*. Just   
the thought of Benny with his clothes off made Ray's already painfully hard cock press a little   
more tightly against his underwear. Time for some release, Ray thought, or a very cold shower,   
and started to unbutton his shirt. 

*** 

Meanwhile, in another part of the Vecchio household, Ben, having carefully considered the   
situation, decided that a bracing shower would be just the thing to enhance his chances for sleep.   
His only miscalculation was underestimating the intensity of his own desire for release and not   
taking into account the recent awakening of a thousand nerve endings hardwired to his personal   
pleasure. He stood under the warm throbbing of the shower which strangely enough, seemed to   
resonate with the throbbing of the blood in his groin, in his lips, behind his eyes. Water the   
temperature of his blood cascaded down over his body, ran in rivulets across his chest, between   
his buttocks, down his legs.  His eyes closed, he shivered as he imagined each rivulet  as Ray's   
tongue, Ray's fingers, exploring, seeking out Ben's hidden erogenous zones. 

Slowly, his fingers came up to touch his face as Ray's had. Inserting his own finger in his mouth,   
he remembered the intense pleasure as Ray had sucked and nibbled the sensitive tips of his   
fingers. He experimentally tried sucking on two fingers, surprised at how sexy this felt, then   
realizing that what he really wanted was Ray's tongue, Ray's fingers, Ray's cock, filling his   
mouth, stretching his lips, scraping gently across his teeth.  His other hand came up to his chest,   
his fingers following the course of the water down across the broad expanse, gently brushing   
across first one and then the other nipple. He groaned around his fingers, as the sensations from   
his nipples were palpably transmitted to and intensified in his groin. He removed his fingers   
from his mouth, and his right hand joined his left in caressing his nipples, dragging his nails   
around the firm little points. 

He imagined Ray's mouth, warm and wet, tongue agile and teasing on his nipples, teeth gently   
nibbling, biting ever so carefully, his own mouth finding Ray's nipples, licking them till they   
stood at attention. Every nerve ending in Ben's groin was on overload, his breathing in the   
steamy shower (steamy in more than one way, he thought wryly) quickening, his legs getting   
rubbery. Slowly he sank to his knees, the hot water continuing to punish his back, running in   
scalding sheets over his shoulders and buttocks. 

Not quite knowing what he was doing, or why, he reached for the shampoo on the ledge around   
the tub. Placing some shampoo in his right hand, he started to meticulously soap his very firm   
erection.  The first few strokes, whisper light touches of his own soap slick hand, almost took   
him over the edge. He drew back, reluctant to end this sweet self-administered torture.  He had   
never felt free enough to explore his body the way he was doing now. Prior to this evening,   
Ben's sexual experience, either with a partner, and there had been very few of those, or when the   
need grew too great, by himself, had been perfunctory at the best. Except, he thought, maybe that   
first time, with Phil; but his grandmother had made sure that had ended unhappily. 

He knew, from long experience, exactly how best to bring himself off in the shortest possible   
time. Sex had become reduced to a mechanical bodily function for him, something which had to   
be taken care of from time to time, but which should impinge in as minor a way as possible on   
the correct functioning of the human organism.  It seemed to Ben that what had happened tonight   
with Ray and what was currently happening in the shower, bore no resemblance at all to what   
Ben had previously experienced as sexual release. Perhaps, just perhaps, this was what sex was   
supposed to be, and if it was this good here alone, how would it be with Ray? Ben could not help   
the tears that squeezed out from between his closed lids and were washed away with the   
streaming water. He had been selling himself short for a long time. 

Shifting slightly, he parted his knees, feeling the cascade of warm water run between his spread   
thighs, caressing the base of his cock, running over his achingly tight balls. He eased his soapy   
fingers around his balls, heavy with need of release, to stroke the band of muscle that ran from   
his balls back toward his anus. His other hand left off teasing his nipple and drifted down across   
his belly to encircle his erection, the soap slick shaft taut with arousal. Spreading his thighs as   
wide as they would go, he slid the tip of his index finger into the opening of his anus, surprised   
at the tightness of the ring of muscle, gratified at the intense pleasure that even such a minor   
penetration produced, awed by the thought of Ray claiming him, penetrating him, filling him.   
His hand moved of its own accord along the shaft of his cock, his hips thrusting in a rhythm as   
old as time.  He fought his body's drive toward completion, attempting to achieve a permanence,   
a distillate of the pure intensity of his desire, but in the end, passing the point of no return, he   
cried out his release, the image of Ray's face, flushed with desire, eyes darkened with lust, a   
faun in rut, taking him over the edge. 

Ben sank back on his heels, eyes still closed, all evidence of his desire washing away with the   
streams of water. He felt clean, rejuvenated, a feeling which had never accompanied his   
masturbatory efforts before. He would ponder the reason for that later, he thought. Right now, all   
he wanted to do was get into bed and go to sleep.  He mechanically shampooed and rinsed his   
hair, the citrusy smell reminding him of Ray, and as he opened his eyes prior to pulling himself   
to his feet, not completely sure his legs were fully functional, he caught a glimpse of something   
at the other end of the steamy tub. Something large and covered with a yellow oilskin slicker,   
complete with sou'wester. His head jerked back, banging hard against the tile. He swore softly   
and scrambled to his feet in an ungainly manner. "Dad? What the hell are you doing here?" he   
asked, chagrined, squinting through the steam. Fine, let lightning strike him down now, he   
thought, it would be so much less painful than the conversation he knew was about to ensue. 

"Hello, son. Your head hurt? That was a nasty bang, and I don't think it did the tile any good   
either." Fraser Sr regarded his son with what looked to Ben remarkably like malicious affection. 

"A little concern for my privacy might have prevented this accident, you know. Don't you care   
at all about my feelings?" Ben snapped the water off, pulled open the shower doors and stepped   
out, dripping, past Fraser Sr. Grabbing a towel from the rack next to the sink, he started   
vigorously drying himself off, carefully not making eye contact with his father's ghost. "So how   
long were you sitting there?" he finally asked. 

"Long enough, son, long enough." His father's face crinkled up in a way which Ben knew from   
long experience meant no good. Ben groaned, his head falling forward on his chest. It was worse   
than he thought. His father kept right on talking, clearly enjoying Ben's humiliation. "That boy   
really has you bamboozled, doesn't he? My god, there you were, pulling on your own pony, like   
a randy teenager." He chuckled malevolently.  Ben thought about strangling him with Mrs.   
Vecchio's bath towel but remembered, with no small regret, that his father was already dead. 

The ghost removed himself fastidiously from the bathtub and Ben noted that Fraser Sr. had hip   
waders on under the oilskins. Hip waders, in July, in downtown Chicago, in a bathtub, for   
heaven's sakes.  If his psyche was responsible for these visions, or whatever the hell they were,   
he needed professional help.  Ben sighed deeply. 

"Aren't you a little overdressed, Dad?" he asked, somewhat muffled, towelling his hair dry, and   
hoping to derail the older Mountie. 

"Well, it is a tad hot in here, but you have to admit that at least I kept my dress uniform dry this   
time." He lumbered over to lean against the vanity and regarded Ben, who was now briskly   
drying his back, speculatively. "Is that a love bite on your neck, son?" He asked, peering at   
Ben's collar bone. "My God, it is. Don't tell me it was the cop that did that. You know, your   
mother could really give a man a love bite. Strong teeth on that woman, just like a horse. She   
could have stripped bark with those teeth. Sometimes I'd look like I had the measles first night I   
was back home in the spring. But you know what they say, it's the suction more than the teeth..." 

"Dad, shut up.  I really don't want to hear about your love life, which, as you are a ghost, can   
only be in the past tense, even if you have intruded into mine." Ben did not, did *not* want to   
continue down that particular conversational pathway. 

Trying to change the subject, he said, "As a matter of fact it was Ray." Ben's father looked   
puzzled. "The... ah...love-bite. On my neck. It was Ray." 

"Oh, well then, that's okay." Fraser Sr. hitched his rubber clad butt up onto the vanity and   
crossed his legs. 

"What do you mean,  That's okay?'" Ben asked, drying his feet. "What can  okay' possibly   
mean in a situation where I am having a conversation with a ghost who appeared while I was in   
the bathtub." 

Fraser Sr. sighed. "Maybe I was wrong about the cop. You and the cop." Ben's head whipped   
around and he stared at the older mountie.  He'd never heard him admit that he had been   
mistaken before. 

Fraser Sr. sighed again. "I was ragging you about your little activities in the shower because I   
was sure that you hadn't done anything about your feelings for him, and that, knowing you, you   
weren't going to either. I thought that maybe if I goaded you a little, you would get your act   
together, you know. Maybe I was wrong." 

Ben looked at him incredulously. His brain wasn't processing all of the information clearly, but   
he certainly thought he could see glimmers of light in even his father's telegraphic   
conversational style. "Let me get this clear, Dad. You thought you were going to encourage me   
to get together with Ray by dropping into my bath and humiliating me?" 

"Okay, it may not have been the best plan in the world, son. But you know, sometimes you are   
slower to get started than a Yukon summer.  I wouldn't have given you a hope in hell of making   
it to first base, given your track record, you know. And why were you, you know," he asked,   
making a significant gesture with his right hand, "if you two are on a neck-biting basis?" 

"I am going to say this once, and only once, Dad, so pay attention.  If it was up to Ray and I, we   
would be down there on the chesterfield this instant fucking our brains out. As it is, our families,   
you included, have managed to interfere to the point that we are spending what I sincerely hope   
will be the last night for a very long time in separate beds. Is that clear?" Ben was slightly taken   
aback with the vehemence with which he had made clear to his father the exact nature of his   
relationship with Ray, but the older Fraser seemed to take it in his stride. He even looked, Ben   
thought wonderingly, well, *pleased* by Ben's outburst. 

"Well, son, so long as you have things under control here, I'd best be going. These hip waders   
are hell to sit in for any length of time." He leaned confidentially toward Ben, "Upcreep, if you   
get my meaning, and worse if you have piles." He stepped back into the bath and drew the   
shower doors closed behind him. 

"Dad?... Dad?... Are you gone?... Thank God, he's gone." Ben actually wouldn't have minded if   
his father had chosen to be a bit more explicit, but he had the distinct feeling that Fraser Sr. had   
just given them his blessing. Wonders never cease, he thought to himself, turning out the light,   
and walking into the guest room and the waiting bed. 

*** 

Ray carefully hung his shirt up in the wardrobe in his room.  He slid out of his pants, and folded   
them over the chair beside his bed.  He stood facing the mirror clad only in white athletic socks   
and white cotton briefs. He looked, to his own disparaging eye, a bit scrawny; he certainly   
wouldn't have given himself a second look, and yet, unbelievably, Benny had looked at him with   
lust, with love.  He shook his head, unable to stop the grin from spreading across his face,   
unwilling to even try. Ah yes, Raymond Vecchio, picture of a grinning fool, which he quickly   
amended to grinning fool with erection; an erection which needed seeing to, as it were, if he had   
any hope of getting to sleep. As he turned to walk to the bed, he caught a glimpse of his father,   
cheesy vinyl jacket and all, leaning up against the wall next to the door. Would it never stop, he   
thought. Next thing he knew, Maria, Tony and the kids would be doing the macarena through the   
bedroom singing the theme-song from Laverne and Shirley. 

"What the fuck do you want? Hell isn't hot enough, so you thought Chicago in July would toast   
you up?" Christ, was he pissed. All he wanted to do was crawl between the sheets, jack off and   
get to sleep, but no, the malicious God clearly had other plans for him tonight. He wouldn't   
make it to tomorrow and Benny. They would find him a gibbering idiot crouched at the foot of   
his bed in the morning at the rate things were going. 

"Is that any way to talk to your old man?" his father asked, removing the tooth pick from his   
mouth. 

"Look, you wanna talk etiquette, try knocking before you come into my room, or better yet, try   
knocking before you come into my life."  Ray strode over to wardrobe, yanked the door open   
and grabbed his bathrobe. He knew rationally that it was only a vision, or whatever, but he hated   
to have to confront it in his jockey shorts, with a raging boner. "So, at the risk of repeating   
myself, what do you want?  Cos, you know, it's not like I *care* about what you want, it's just   
that I know damn well that you won't go away until you get it, even if it is only to drive me   
crazy."  He shut the door with more force than was absolutely necessary and sat down on the   
chair. He regarded his father's ghost, wondering what was going to come out of his mouth. 

"You got no right to be pissed with me, so don't go acting so high and mighty." The ghost spat a   
bit of chewed tooth pick onto the carpet. "After all, you ain't got a faggot for a son." 

Ray's heart sank.*Shit. Shit. Shit. Triple Shit.* He knew what was coming, and he didn't,   
*didn't* want to go there. Still, if he couldn't defend his life's choices to the ghost of his old   
man, who would he be able to? "Okay, you want to go through this now, fine. In a sick sort of   
way, I have been looking forward to this. Come on, cite me chapter and verse from the Red-Neck   
Handbook On Fag Baiting, but I'm warning you, Dad, I ain't changing my mind, not for you, or   
anyone else. I like who I am now, and I couldn't say that two years ago." Ray struggled to keep   
his hands from clenching into fists. Not that he wouldn't have minded knocking the shit out of   
his father, it's just that he knew it was ridiculous to try to hit a ghost, irrespective of how truly   
offensive he might be being. He leaned back in the chair, legs crossed at the ankle, and laced his   
fingers together behind his head, hoping, he thought, against hope, to look as nonchalant as   
possible. 

Whatever it was, it certainly seemed to be getting on the ghost's tits. A look of revulsion swept   
over the apparition's features and it spat out, "I can't believe you're a fuckin' queer.  Ya know, I   
didn't raise you to be a cocksucker." 

"No Dad, that's right, you did not. If I recall correctly, you were never that important a factor in   
how I was raised, so I guess you can rest easy, knowing that you had no part in how I turned out.   
That should make you rest in hell easier." Ray felt himself mentally counting to ten, before he   
felt capable of going on. "And you know, I am sooo fucking tired of this crap about assessing   
blame.  Next thing you'll be blaming it on Ma, or Chicago water, or fucking space aliens. But   
you just don't get it, do you?  Cos, there is nothing to blame anything on." He watched his   
father's reaction, which, predictably, was just this side of apoplectic. 

"You mean you don't deny it?  You're proud of being a faggot?  That is even sicker than being   
queer!" 

"Hello? Earth to bigot, where have you been for the last five minutes? I am very proud of who I   
am, and that includes, but is not limited to, who I fuck. You know, you're just unbelievable.  Not   
the homophobia stuff,  cos I knew that you would be Mr. Sensitivity there, but the part about not   
having listened to a word I said. It just doesn't sink in does it? But then, you never listened to   
anything we said, did you? You never were there to listen, were you?" 

"Hey, watch who you're calling  sensitive' there!" flared his father, as he started forward, his   
fists clenched. 

" Right, big man, so sure of yourself, you have to beat the shit out of anyone who is different,   
eh?  Cos you know, faggots are dangerous, aren't they? So what exactly is it that you got to   
defend yourself from, Dad?  What are you so scared of? You mess around when you were a kid   
and remember how good it felt? Is that it, Dad?" This was ugly, but in a perverse sort of way,   
Ray was, well, not exactly *enjoying* it, but at least he was feeling...exorcised might be the best   
word. 

The ghost dropped his hands, and leaned back against the wall. "It's  cos you've been fucked   
around by that wife of yours, ain't it? Ya know, that's just one bad experience -- lots more were   
she came from.  It ain't logical for you to assume that just  cos you never had much luck with   
women, you're queer."  The ghost dug into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He peeled   
off a bill and held it out to Ray. " Here, here's twenty. Go down to Angel Baby's, and tell them   
Carmine sent you.  They'll fix you up, ya know. Come on." He threw the bill on the bed. 

"My God, you are a piece of work, aren't you? One good fuck, and that'll straighten me out,   
right Pops?  Well, that ain't how it is, you know. When I want someone in my bed, I want a man   
there, and it ain't  cos it didn't work out with Ange, and it ain't  cos I wasn't able to find women   
to go out with. I love Benny and I hope he loves me, that's all that matters." 

"Yeah, yeah, very touching, the two faggots love each other."His father's ghost flapped his hand   
at the wrist. "That mountie, he's just out to use you, ya know.  Ya gotta get your rocks off with   
him, get  em off, but don't let him get one over on you. He's using you, mark my words." 

Ray looked away, disgusted.   "Well Pops, I got news for you, not everyone thinks like you. And   
believe me, that can only be considered a very good thing." 

He wasn't sure what it was his father was driving at, but he was certain that he would find out.   
Even though Ray knew the depths to which his father was capable of sinking, he was still   
unprepared when the ghost said, "What I'm trying to tell you is, make him bend over for you, but   
don't ..." 

A pure red rage swept over Ray, carrying with it any remaining inhibitions.  All too clearly he   
was able to see what this whole song and dance was about, and he was furious. The damn ghost   
should thank its lucky stars that it was dead already, or Ray would have strangled it with his bare   
hands. Instead, he exacted his punishment verbally. "Don't get fucked. Right?  Cos that's why   
you're here, isn't it? You're here to make sure that no one manages to put his cock up my   
asshole, isn't that it? Like somehow that matters, like it's okay to fuck a guy, but not to be   
fucked by one, right. Some ancient macho code of honour, that only you stupid wops think   
makes sense. Well I gotta tell you, Daddy-o, you're too late. That cherry got popped a long time   
ago, and tomorrow, when I finally get Benny into bed, I want his cock so deep up my ass that I   
can taste it. Capiche?" 

As the rage left him, he couldn't believe what he had just said, not that it wasn't true, but it was a   
bit crude even for Ray, even considering the way he had been provoked. On the other hand it   
seemed to have shut his father up, at least temporarily.  And where was he, Ray thought, looking   
around. The look of horror on his old man's face might be some minor consolation for what he   
had just put Ray through, but he appeared to have vanished into thin air. 

"Thank God," Ray sighed aloud, "at least that's over." He shook his head, trying to clear the fog   
that had settled on his brain during his conversation, if one could call it that, with his father. He   
was appalled by the hatred he had seen on his father's face, by his father's crass distinction   
between people who fuck and others who are fucked. He had seen that distinction in others, in   
people he had come up against in his work, rapists, fag-bashers, and it sickened him that his old   
man seemed to have been cut from the same cloth. 

*** 

The argument with his father had left him physically and emotionally drained, not to mention   
considerably less aroused than when he had come up to bed. May as well get some sleep, he   
thought and after a quick trip to the bathroom, he shed his robe and underwear. Naked, he   
slipped between the covers of his bed and turned the light out. Surprisingly, he fell asleep easily,   
but slept restlessly for the early part of the night.  His open declaration of exactly what he hoped   
he and Benny would be doing tomorrow lodged itself in his subconscious and shortly after 3 am   
he awakened, the flickering flames in his groin once again a raging inferno. 

Sleep warm and groggy, he shifted against the cool cotton sheets, not sure whether he was awake   
or dreaming, the only thing clear was the ache in his groin, and his desire to plunge back into   
sleep.  Still fuzzy, he remembered snatches of the dream from which he had just awoken,   
fragments displaced in dream-time, dream-sequence -- he and Benny, naked, on the couch, his   
hand on Benny's cock, stroking, soft skin, slick with evidence of Benny's desire, velvety   
softness of Benny's mouth on his cock, the feel of his hair under Ray's hands, sweet desire   
burning in his groin,  now they were in Ray's bed, Benny's body covering Ray as he lay face   
down, the warmth of Benny's skin, the feeling of fullness as Benny pushed agonizingly slowly   
into Ray, warm and safe, now Ray filling Benny, rocking into him, their desire synchronizing   
their movements, Ray's hands grasping Benny's buttocks, swallowing Benny's cock, hands   
every where and nowhere, feather light touches. 

Ray groaned as he lay face down, his erection trapped between his belly and the bed, his hips   
moving rhythmically, pressing his erection along the too smooth sheet, the sense of loss   
accompanying the realization that he was alone in his bed fading as he became caught up in the   
stream of that age old need for climax. He grabbed his robe from beside the bed and jammed it   
between his belly and the bed, the rough terry cloth more stimulating than the sheet, the bunched   
robe satisfying his need to feel something, anything under his erection. The speed of his hips'   
thrusts increased, the rough cloth surrounding his very sensitive cock, every fibre of the fabric   
drawing a response as it provided the necessary friction. Ray's fingers grasped the sheet, pulling   
it up, his knuckles white.  He could think of nothing except the need for release, and the way in   
which Benny had said,  I want to make love with you'. The phrase, repeating it self in his mind,   
was on Ray's lips as he finally came, the tempo of his thrusts short and sharp, his semen soaking   
into the robe. 

*** 

Ben woke early, the morning sun just starting to splash itself across the foot of the bed.  It looked   
like a beautiful day, with none of the hazy humidity of the previous day, a rain-washed day,   
scrubbed clean by the rainstorm that had happened during the night. Still lying on his back, Ben   
stretched, his body felt rested and alive to the sensations around him.  He would have to get up   
soon, he thought, but he was enjoying just being at the moment, revelling in the cool morning   
air, the sunshine, the smell of fresh cut grass wafting through the window. Revelling also in   
anticipation of what this day, this glorious day, would bring. He shivered a little, recalling the   
events of the previous evening, the way Ray's body had felt, the hardness of his erection as they   
had lain together on the chesterfield, the warmth of his mouth. He closed his eyes, only briefly,   
he thought, the better to concentrate his thoughts. The next thing he knew, Ray was knocking   
gently at the door, calling softly, "Benny, time to rise and shine, my love," and the sun had   
worked its way up the bed, until it formed a bright grid over Ben's body. His heart soared at   
Ray's morning greeting, *my love*. 

"Come in, Ray," he said in response, sitting up, the warm morning sun caressing his form.  Ray   
caught sight of Benny sitting on the bed, sleep warm and lovely, dark hair tousled,  a white sheet   
draped over his groin, the sun gilding his naked perfection, and found himself unable to speak,   
unable to even catch his breath. "Good morning, Ray," Benny smiled at him, the smile of angels,   
fallen and otherwise, and Ray felt his pulse race, his heart attempting to beat its way out of his   
chest and into Benny's hands.  "Ray? Is everything alright, Ray?" Benny leaned forward,   
alarmed at Ray's unusual silence, and started to get up. 

Ray really wanted to say  You are perfect and I can't believe that I, Ray Vecchio, could have   
ever done anything to deserve to have this perfection,' but he didn't, he couldn't. Instead, he   
moved toward Benny, who, having stood up, had lost the decorous covering of the sheet, and   
took him in his arms. Benny's arms came around Ray's torso, and locked in an embrace that   
seemed to go on forever, they pressed their lips together, their bodies together. 

Coming up for air, Ray was finally able to speak, "It's okay Benny, everything is perfect.   
Everything is just fine. I only needed to touch you so that I could convince myself that this   
wasn't a dream, ya know?" 

Ben nodded and thought that the dreams were but a pale imitation of the reality he was currently   
experiencing.  His own dreams had only hinted at the sort of joy he had felt when Ray walked   
into the room, the way his heart had swelled, the sweetness in his chest threatening to overwhelm   
all other feeling.  He stroked Ray's back with his hands, the silk of the short sleeved shirt   
rippling like water under his fingertips, Ray's muscles taut under his touch. 

Gently, Ray disengaged himself from Benny's embrace, and said softly in his ear, "I think you   
need to get some clothes on and we need to get out of here before Franny walks in on us." 

Benny chuckled, and added, "Particularly since you didn't bother to shut the door behind you." 

Ray laughed, "Well, if you want proper guest-room etiquette you shouldn't look so damn sexy!"   
He planted quick chaste kiss on Benny's pliant lips and left the room, carefully shutting   
the door behind him. 

*** 

Half an hour later Ray and Ben were finally on the road, the Riv spinning them away toward   
only Ray knew where.  Ben had managed to get dressed without further interference from Ray.   
When he came down the stairs wearing a clean white T-shirt, worn blue jeans and carrying a   
flannel shirt, Ray had wolf-whistled and shook his head. Ben, worried, had asked if he was   
dressed appropriately, and Ray had replied that he looked great and that he, Ray, would get a bit   
of early practice at playing the jealous lover where they were going.  Ben had looked curiously at   
Ray, wondering where exactly Ray was planning to take them, but was soon sidetracked by   
Ray's warm kisses.  Eating breakfast had proved to be an interesting sensual experience.  They   
had ended up feeding each other toast and exchanging buttery kisses. It was only when they had   
heard Franny stirring upstairs that they had been able to drag themselves apart long enough to   
clear away their breakfast things and make their way into the car. 

Now in the car, Ben was enjoying the unparalleled joys of being able to watch Ray to his heart's   
content.  Ray drove with a competence (regardless of minor traffic infractions, Ben allowed) that   
took Ben's breath away. His gaze was firmly fixed on the road, and he handled the Riv with a   
confidence born of long practice.  Ben's eyes drank in his lover, ranging freely over his features,   
resting now on his lips, the lips that had covered his own with such passion, moving now to his   
eyes, his neck, his perfectly formed ear, pink and shell-like. He had run his tongue around that   
ear last night, and Ray had moved under him, his body begging for release. Ben's own arousal   
awoke, stimulated by the memory, and he shifted in his seat. Perhaps wearing the jeans wasn't   
the best idea. They did fit rather snugly about the crotch, and under the circumstances, there   
would be little doubt of Ben's intentions were his thoughts to continue along their current   
course.  Perhaps some conversation would take his...ah...mind off thoughts that were better   
savoured in the safety of one's bedroom.  "Ray, where exactly are we going?"  Ben knew that   
they had circled down toward the lake but as he had rarely been in this part of Chicago, he   
couldn't even make an educated guess at where Ray was headed.   
    
Ray flashed him a quick grin, eyes sparkling with barely suppressed glee. "We're going to   
continue your education Benny, but in a more conducive setting." 

Ben's mind scurried over the possibilities for his advancing his studies from the night before,   
and moaned slightly, "Is this a public place, Ray?" He asked with some trepidation. 

Ray laughed out loud, "Gawd, Benny. Get yer mind out of the gutter. *That* education will   
come later. No, I meant, your baseball education." 

"Oh, of course, Ray. I don't know what I was thinking of." He slid his eyes sideways at Ray,   
making sure that Ray knew that he was pulling his leg. 

"I'm sure you don't, Benny, I'm sure you don't." Ray laughed softly.  One of the biggest   
surprises Ray had had over the last few hours was discovering a playful, teasing Benny that he   
would have not predicted prior to last night. The existence of this Benny, joyous, shy, and slyly   
provocative pleased him very much. It was almost as though the Benny that had existed only in   
sepia tones (red serge to the contrary) had been replaced by a technicolour Benny, a blossoming   
that caused Ray's spirits to soar.  He had always felt that Benny had only been partially present   
in this world. Not that he wasn't fully here mentally, though sometimes Ray thought, he had felt   
that he had cause to wonder; rather it was as though Benny had been emotionally sleepwalking   
through life.  Part of it clearly had something to do with his father's death, and certainly, and   
Ray did not want to think about this, part of it was that whole fiasco with Victoria, but there was   
more to it than that, Ray was sure.  What ever it was, Benny, all parts of Benny, appeared to have   
woken up with a vengeance, and Ray, for one, was thankful. 

"Ray, as I understand it, we are going to be attending a baseball game. Is that correct?" Ben   
looked at Ray speculatively. Ray nodded, eyes fixed on the road. Ben wasn't sure about this   
plan.  Baseball last night had been a necessary evil, as it were. Baseball this morning, on the   
other hand, seemed to be Ray taking advantage of the situation. Still, he certainly owed Ray for   
that pick-up hockey game he had inveigled him into with Mike Smithbauer, and it was a lovely   
day. "I take it that this will be baseball in it's natural state: baseball as it was meant to be   
played?" 

"Yeah, Benny. I wanted to show you why baseball is so great, and I couldn't have thought of a   
better way of showing you than this, if I do say so myself."  Ben had to smile. Ray looked so   
very pleased with himself, Ben felt drawn in by his enthusiasm and was actually looking forward   
to the morning's activities.  "And, Benny, I did say that I had someone I wanted you to meet too,   
and he will be playing this morning.  Sort of killing two birds with one stone." 

"Can I ask who this mystery person is, Ray?" Ben asked, curious. 

"You can ask, Benny, but I ain't saying nothing, just yet. You'll see when we get there." He   
smiled smugly.  Benny was getting ready to launch into another series of questions, and Ray   
toyed with trying to make Benny a little bit jealous, but decided that would be taking teasing a   
bit far. 

"Ray..." 

"No, Benny, no more questions about the mystery person. Besides, we're almost there now   
anyway."  Ray swung the Riv off the four lane road and into a smaller street leading out to a   
greenbelt area. They crunched into a gravel parking lot and parked next to a slightly rusty red   
pick-up truck with a rainbow triangle sticker on the corner of the windscreen. The lot wasn't full,   
but there were a fair number of vehicles there, and several of them seemed to be disgorging men   
or women dressed in baseball uniforms carrying athletic bags, bats, gloves and other   
paraphernalia. The uniforms had the names of sponsoring establishments on the back over the   
numbers, many of which, Ben noted, seemed to be bars or restaurants, though a couple of women   
were wearing lavender uniforms that had been apparently been sponsored by something called   
Ten Percent Travel. 

Ray was already out of the car, and before Ben had extricated himself from the seat belt, let   
alone opened the door, Ray had joined a small group of men, all wearing neon pink uniforms   
with the words Lacey's Bar and Grill on the back. They were evidently very pleased to see him.   
Perhaps, Ben thought, watching one of the men pull Ray into a full body hug, just a little too   
pleased to see him.  This minor flare of jealousy, though no, he thought, not jealousy, anxiety?   
concern? surprised him. He had never considered himself to be a possessive person, yet here he   
was discomfited by seeing Ray interact with other men, men who were clearly gay and quite   
possibly sexually interested in him. On the other hand, he allowed, Ray's attentions had been   
nothing if not forthright and clear, and, unless he was greatly mistaken, he had to prepare himself   
for the fact that Ray would have had other lovers in the past. He would just have to let that little   
jealous flare die a natural death, and trust to the future. Besides, thinking of the last two years,   
particularly that dreadful time during and immediately after Victoria's headlong rush through his   
life, he knew that he should be glad if there had been someone there to comfort Ray. 

Ray was engaged in an animated conversation with two of the men, while others from the group   
drifted away, carrying their kit.  Ben stood up, and automatically turned to release the seat so that   
Dief was able to hop out.  When he turned back, Ray was beckoning him to come and join him   
with expansive arm gestures saying, "Benny, com'ere and meet two of my friends, Scott and   
Stephen." 

Ben met up with the trio and while Ray effected introductions, Ben extended his hand to Scott, a   
tall, red-haired man with very blue eyes and a scattering of old acne scars on his cheeks. His long   
limbed form looked fit and he held himself with the sort of presence that suggests someone who   
is comfortable in his body. He then shook hands with Stephen, who was more compact, and had   
blond hair, which he kept tossing out of his eyes.  His face was almost cat-like, high cheek-bones   
tapering to a pointed chin. Stephen was the man who had hugged Ray, and Ray still had one arm   
around the small of Stephen's back as he explained to Ben that Scott and Stephen had just told   
him that they were going to have a commitment ceremony next month.  While Ben's mouth   
made all the right noises about congratulations, his right hand, almost of its own volition,   
reached out and casually claimed Ray's left one. Ray turned to him and his smile could have lit   
the Chicago skyline; it certainly lit up Ben's heart, and before they knew it, they were kissing. 

Stephen nudged Scott, and rolling his eyes, pointedly said, "Young love." Scott drew Stephen   
away from the pair, and said quietly, but loud enough for Ray and Ben to hear, "Ain't it grand!   
Enjoy boys. Maybe we'll see you after the game, and maybe we won't. Wink, wink, nudge   
nudge." 

When they broke from their kiss, Ray looked at Ben and said, "I love it when you are jealous." 

"I'm not jealous, Ray. I just ..." Ben trailed off, not quite sure how to phrase the next part of his   
explanation. 

"You're not jealous, but ..." Ray prompted, grinning wickedly. 

"I'm not jealous but I seem to want you all to myself at the moment. It's like I am greedy for   
you, and I can't get enough." Ben thought that he had managed to get to the heart of the matter,   
and he realized that he didn't mind that Ray had other friends, and that he had had other lovers.   
This realization came as a relief to him, because he wanted to share Ray's life completely, and   
certainly didn't want to deprive Ray of what seemed to be a congenial social circle.  He briefly   
wondered how Ray had met these people, and how long he had known them. One thing was   
obvious, Ray was a whole lot more comfortable with the "gay factor" than Ben could have   
imagined. 

***   
    
Walking across the mowed grass to a series of baseball diamonds, it was Ray's turn to be   
jealous. As he had predicted, Benny made a very positive impression on the other men in the   
park. Most of the time, Ray noted, it was just the old eyeball cruise, but on one or two occasions   
there was the odd comment, mostly of the sort of arch banter that he had very little time for. If   
one more person muttered, "My, aren't we butch!" Ray was going to pistol whip someone. Of   
course, he had to laugh at Benny.  Didn't matter if it was men or women, Benny just didn't get it.   
He didn't even notice it most of the time, and the first time some one had used the butch line,   
Ray had had to stop Benny from attempting to point out that he was Benton and not Butch. On   
the other hand, it gratified Ray that he was so clearly the envy of so many of the men there, and,   
this  was much more important, that Benny had eyes for no one but Ray. 

They finally reached a diamond where the neon pink squad was taking infield practice. Ray   
expertly steered Ben to a small set of bleachers made of about four ranks of weather worn planks   
and metal piping badly in need of rust paint. Ben noticed that there was a large variety of dogs   
on the sidelines, attached to leashes, running free, tethered to lawn chairs.  No sign of Dief near   
the diamonds, but then Ben had noted a chip truck parked between the wading pool and the   
baseball diamonds, and assumed, correctly, that Dief would have staked a claim somewhere near   
the source of all junk food.  Ray selected an unoccupied section of the front row and they sat   
down. Clearly Ray knew many of the Lacey's team, and several waved at him. Ben noticed that   
Stephen was occupying the area between second and third base while Scott was busily swinging   
about four bats back and forth. 

Ray had been chatting about the importance of getting the infield properly warmed up and the   
problems associated with right-handed versus left-handed pitchers, or as Ray called them, south-paws.  Ben decided that it was time to stop making facilitating remarks and to redirect the   
conversation along more interesting lines. He decided that he might be able to achieve this end   
by asking about the league, and then to expand the conversation to include other aspects of what   
he had now rephrased as Ray's gay existence.   "Ray, it is clear from the names of the sponsors   
that many of the teams playing have strong ties to the Chicago gay and lesbian community, but is   
this a gay and lesbian league, or do other teams play here as well?" 

"Well, this is mostly a lesbian and gay league. Oh, there are the occasional straight players who   
hang out with this crowd, but most of the people playing are gay.  The league started up a few   
years ago, and now there are enough teams to make it interesting.  Mostly it's just a beer league   
format, but now there are a couple of gay teams that are playing in the large city league.  Lotta   
these guys, though," he nodded at the field, "don't want the hassle of playing in a mixed   
straight/gay league -- they figure they don't need the macho shit, and who can blame'em?" 

"And so these businesses, Lacey's Bar and Grille, Ten Percent Travel, Pita Pan -- they sponsor   
the various teams?" 

Ray nodded. "Yeah, they put out the money for the shirts and maybe a pair of colour co-ordinated socks and get the free advertising. Sometimes the names they come up with just kill   
me. My personal favourite is the team Pita Pan's sponsors: the Pita Pansies." Ray chuckled, and   
then continued his exposition on lesbian and gay baseball. "Everything else is strictly volunteer   
run. The league more or less administers itself, and some years it works, and others.." He   
waggled his hand, to indicate that sometimes the administration was a bit iffy.  "On the whole, it   
seems to work. Stephen has been playing for four years now, and Scott was one of the original   
organizers back in the early eighties. I started coming out here occasionally, just to watch, last   
summer. The ball's not bad, and the company's great." 

Ben had so many questions. This was a whole different side of Ray and  he needed to know more   
about it since it had become quite obvious in the last few minutes that loving Ray was not just   
going to be staying in with Ray (and his groin, perking up at the thought of what staying in with   
Ray might entail, reminded him just what staying in with Ray would lead to) it was also going to   
mean going out with Ray, or was it *coming* out with Ray? Ben shook his head a little, and   
reflected that both of those options should about cover it. Going out and coming out.  He   
wondered why he hadn't thought through to this part of their relationship. Probably, he thought   
wryly, because he hadn't expected any of this to work out the way it had. Not that he would   
change an iota of the way it had turned out.  Perhaps, he mused, it was because he had assumed   
that he and Ray would be exploring the cultural side of their life together, and he seriously hoped   
that it would be a *lifetime* together, together as it were. 

"So how did you find out about this place?" 

"Well that's a long story, Benny. But the condensed version is that I met some of these guys at   
Lacey's -- it's a sort of gay sports bar  -- you know, big screen TV, bar food, cheap draft and   
they asked if I wanted to watch them play one Saturday, and the rest, as they say, is history." 

Ray glanced up at the field, and stood up suddenly, waving as a couple of men, also in Lacey's   
regalia, jogged up to the clump of players gathered around one of two benches just behind a low   
chain-link fence. One of the men waved back, and Ray sat down again. After a coin toss and   
consultation with the umpire, the two teams started play. Lacey's, having lost the toss, were   
batting first, and while the other team was taking the field, the man who had waved back at Ray   
came over towards them.   Ben could feel Ray's energy level increase, and noted that his lover   
was somewhat more animated than he had been. Ah, he thought, this must be the mystery man.   
Ray took a firmer grip on Ben's hand, and moved their locked hands to rest on Ben's thigh.  Ben   
gently squeezed Ray's hand back, and risked a quick kiss on Ray's cheek. 

Now that he was closer, Ben could tell that the man had had extensive facial surgery, which   
though excellent, could not disguise the fact that Ray's friend had had very serious facial trauma   
at quite a young age, early adolescence, Ben suspected. Not that he wasn't still an attractive man,   
just that there had clearly been some violence done to his face. Perhaps a car accident, surely not   
burns, which would have left the underlying bone structure intact... Ben's mind was ticking over   
busily, and Ray, evidently noticing this, gave Ben's hand a gentle shake. Ben shot Ray a quick   
smile, and then his eyes went back to the approaching stranger. Good stride, easy, self-confident   
walk, sturdy legs, the left one covered with a large bandage that encompassed a good portion of   
the thigh, grey eyes, a good deal of intelligence in them, dark brown hair, clubbed back into a   
pony tail.  He looked happy to see Ray and was smiling broadly when Ray and Ben stood up to   
greet him. He enfolded Ray in a huge hug, and Ben was able to see just how tall this man was: 6'   
6" at least. Ray looked dwarfed in his arms. 

Releasing Ray, the man turned to Ben and took Ben's extended hand in his, saying "You must be   
Benton Fraser. I have heard so much about you from Ray." Ray was about to jump in and   
complete the introduction when the stranger said, "And I'm Marco Metrone." 

"Ah, Ray's friend from junior high. Pleased to meet you, Marco." Ben shook Marco's hand and   
looked at Ray, who was smiling broadly. Ben was intrigued.  He could make some guesses as to   
why Ray wanted him to meet Marco, but wasn't exactly sure what was up.  He had felt for the   
longest time that Ray's interaction with Zuko had marked an important turning point in their   
relationship, and, unless he missed his guess completely, this had to be part of the same   
constellation of events. They all sat back down on the bench, and Ray slid his arm around Ben,   
tucking his fingers into the back of Ben's jeans.  Ben liked the feeling of this minor possession,   
and rested his hand on Ray's thigh. 

"Aren't you playing today Marco?" Ray asked. 

"Yeah, it's just that I'm well down in the rotation and I thought that I would come over to say   
 Hi' before I had to go and do my fielderly duty.  Not that I would mind skipping today." He   
gestured at his thigh. "I took a hell of a spill yesterday on the bike and have a serious case of   
road-rash.  Though that didn't stop my sweetie from bouncing me out of bed this morning to   
come and play soft-ball. He didn't want to take the chance that we would have had to forfeit the   
game if we didn't show." He glanced over at the bench, where the stocky black man he had   
arrived with sat happily joking with the rest of the Lacey's players. 

"So you don't really care for baseball, Marco?" Ben asked, carefully concealing his own ...   
distain, perhaps, for the game, just in case Marco proved to be an aficionado. 

"Hell, no." Marco said with feeling. "It's sort of like fishing.  Nothing ever happens, and of   
course, I understand that that's not the point of the game anyway; but it still seems to me that   
there are better ways of wasting time." 

Ray seemed to be taking Marco's criticism of baseball in his stride, but added, chuckling, "I'll   
grant you that there are better ways of wasting time indoors, but outdoors, on a fine morning, I   
don't think you can beat it." 

"Yeah, well that might be Ray, but I notice you're not playing." Marco laughed. "You play,   
Ben?" he asked. 

"No, I'm afraid not." Ben responded, pleased to have found someone who agreed with him about   
baseball. "I play hockey, and I curl." He couldn't help himself from sliding in a little joke on   
Ray. 

Marco nodded. "I haven't curled in years." 

Ray's head whipped around at Marco, clearly suspecting some sort of curling conspiracy,   
"What? You? Curl?" 

Marco nodded and continued, "I did my undergrad at the University of Wisconsin. The biology   
department used to run an intermural thing in the winter, sometimes we'd do a little tournament   
with the aggies. It was mostly just hacking around, you know. Of course, it was really the apres   
curl that they were interested in, that lot." 

He laughed, clearly retaining fond memories of curling and Ben was pleased. Perhaps if Ray   
could be convinced....No, better not push things, yet. Still, there must be a curling league in a   
city the size of Chicago and perhaps Marco could be convinced to bring pressure to bear on his   
partner as well. Marco's question intruded on Ben's plans to make Ray learn to curl. "So where   
did you curl, Ben?" 

"Mostly with the RCMP, when I was in Regina for training, and then all over the place. I found   
it an invaluable way of becoming part of the community, especially in smaller towns and   
villages." 

"It's  cos there isn't anything else to do up there." Ray was bent on getting a bit of his own back,   
and Ben could tell that this was pay-back for the curling digression. Still, he couldn't let Ray's   
aspersions go unchallenged. 

"Well, Ray, you know that's not exactly true. And besides, the arena, usually housing the town's   
curling club and a hockey rink, is the heart and soul of many of these communities. In a lot of   
ways these structures, and by that I mean both the physical building and the social structure that   
is generated by these interactions, these structures are equivalent to say the town pump in earlier   
times. A similar, but not identical, structure would be the feed store or Co-op which has long ..."   
Ray threw his hands in the air 

"Benny, I give up. I will never make fun of curling or the north again. Just don't get started on   
the social structure of feed-stores. Okay?" 

"Understood, Ray." Ben was having a hard time keeping from laughing.  He noticed that Marco   
was looking somewhat puzzled by their interaction. 

Ray evidently noticed this as well, and attempted to reassure him by explaining, "It's okay. He   
always talks like that. It's a Canadian thing, ya know?" He continued, directing his remarks to   
Marco, but sliding his arm back around Ben. "But I've gotten wise to him, ya know. I think he   
does it sometimes just to get me going." 

"That's just silly, Ray." 

Marco joined in with their laughter, and cast a glance at the field.  Ben decided that it might be   
prudent to bring the conversation back to baseball and Marco, and asked Marco what position he   
played. Ray started to giggle, and both Ben and Marco looked at him curiously. 

"Left field." Marco replied. "What are you laughing at Ray?" 

"Nothing." Ray said, having recovered somewhat. 

"Don't you find it boring out in left field, with no balls to catch?" Ben asked ingenuously. 

Ray's self control seemed to be slipping again, but Marco answered the question frankly. "Yeah,   
a bit. But if you know about me and Zuko, you understand that I really don't need anything   
round and hard coming near enough me to do any damage.  And I certainly don't want anything   
happening to my hands." 

"Marco's a surgeon." Ray explained. 

Ben nodded. "So why do you play at all?" 

"I like the social aspect of it. It's the only team sport I do play. Took me 15 years even to   
consider playing left field in a queer beer league. I like my sports to be strictly me against the   
clock.  Triathlon, some bike racing." He paused, lost in thought, and then continued, "Ironic isn't   
it.  If Frankie Zuko had known what I was going to end up doing for a career, he would have   
fucked up my hands instead of my face.   Cept guys like Zuko never figure out that anyone   
besides themselves have lives and potential." 

"Zuko never gave much thought to anyone but himself. Still doesn't." Ray remarked. 

"But the toad beneath the harrow knows where every point goes." Ben thought that the   
connection was obvious, but both Marco and Ray looked at him as though he had come from,   
well, left field. 

"This doesn't have anything to do with ancient Eskimo proverbs, does it Grasshopper." 

Sometimes Ray could be quite obtuse. Ben sighed and attempted to explain. "It's just another   
way of saying that in any established power relationship, the individual with power, the   
oppressor as it were, has the luxury, if you want to call it that, of  knowing little or nothing of the   
lives of those he, or I suppose, she, oppresses. The oppressed, in order to survive, must know and   
understand everything about the oppressor because, in many cases,  his or her life depends on it.   
Hence the toad and harrow analogy." He hoped that would clear up any confusion. 

Marco nodded and then asked, "You study philosophy?" 

"I've read some, but no, I didn't need a book to work that out.  It comes from having lived   
amongst a people for whom the whims of a government, and specifically individuals within that   
government, have meant literally life and death." 

"You're not talking about the Canadian Government, are you." Ray looked surprised. 

"Well, yes, I am, Ray. Our past record is not completely unblemished, you know. Especially   
when it comes to the native peoples, Canada's practical responses have been substantially at   
odds with our stated humanitarian principles. Just look at the residential schools issue, to say   
nothing of lack of opportunities for native self-government, or even the way that the recent   
Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples has been buried by our government."  There was a   
pause, while the three considered the residential schools and other issues. 

Or at least, Ben assumed the other two were considering it. This was an area in which he had   
gone to some lengths to try to exorcise his conscience, and he had finally achieved an uneasy   
truce. Certainly while he had been living in the territories he had felt that he was able to do much   
to put right some of the wrongs his government had historically colluded in; in Chicago, on the   
other hand, it was somewhat more difficult to have the sort of hands-on restitution that he had   
been used to. Part of his bargain with his soul had been modified, so that he would attempt to,   
when ever possible, enhance an understanding of Canada's north and the people who   
traditionally inhabited it, through stories and anecdotes. He wasn't completely sure how well it   
was working so far, but he felt that, in addition to sending weekly letters to the Prime Minister   
urging a more responsible attitude toward native peoples, by acting as a one man Inuit   
information bureau he was doing as much as possible, under the circumstances. 

*** 

A shout from the Lacey bench broke the spell that seemed to hold the three men silent for a   
moment. Marco stood to go, and Ray couldn't help himself from saying, albeit in a more than   
slightly teasing manner, "See Benny, you get all heavy at a baseball game, everyone leaves, and   
we get left alone." 

Marco laughed and, leering just a little, said, "I think that you two *need* to be alone for a   
while."He continued, "On the other hand, when you feel like you wouldn't mind some company,   
I'm issuing a supper invitation.  I think that Ben and Cecil will have lots to talk about. See you   
later, duty calls." 

"Ray, you don't think that my..." Benny asked somewhat apprehensively. 

Ray laughed when he heard the slightly plaintive tone in Benny's voice and shook his head.   
"Naw, Benny. Don't worry about it. I was just raggin' ya. The inning's over and Marco's gotta   
go man left field." He hugged Benny close, and kissed firmly him on the lips. Benny returned the   
kiss with full attention to detail; more precisely, the detail that involved as close a contact with   
Ray as was possible. They broke the kiss after some cat-calls from further up in the bleachers,   
and someone calling out, "Call the fire department, I think they're going to ignite." and someone   
else replying, "Well, seeing as you *are* a fireman, Phil, you should be able to handle it." 

The assembled men laughed, and Phil was starting to say something about exactly what it was he   
wanted to handle when Ray turned to him and said, "Whatsa matter Phil, this been a dry   
summer?" 

Benny had turned a bright scarlet, a look Ray thought was particularly sexy, but stalwartly was   
trying to point out that the summer, though hot, had had, to this point at least, more than average   
rainfall.  Ray derailed this climatic disquisition by the simple expedient of covering Benny's lips   
with his own again.  Interrupted in full flight, as it were, Benny's lips were parted, and Ray,   
unable to resist, slid his tongue into Benny's warm mouth. Benny groaned, and deepened the   
kiss, pushing his tongue forward to meet and mate with Ray's. The guys on the bleachers   
stomped their feet and someone wolf-whistled. Ray reached around behind Benny's back and   
silently gave their attentive audience the finger. This only encouraged more cat-calls and finally,   
breaking their lip-lock, Ray said, "Whyn't you pervs watch some baseball." 

Ray didn't give a damn who watched them kiss, or that the guys watching were ribbing them in a   
good-natured if somewhat crude way; he was worried, however, that it would make Benny   
embarrassed and worse, might make him feel that Ray was somehow putting him on display.   
And Ray certainly didn't want Benny to think that. Part of the reason he had brought them to the   
game was that he thought that if they were in a public place, they might be able to keep their   
hands off each other. It didn't seem to be working that well at the moment. At least it was a gay   
environment. He could just imagine going shopping with Benny if they didn't get this under   
control: Benny bending over the meat counter to check the best before stamps, and Ray unable to   
resist, humping him right there in front of the alarmed Petit's Farm Market customers.  Not that   
those sorts of thoughts helped the current problem any, he allowed, his erection starting to feel a   
little uncomfortable. 

Of course, Benny hadn't pulled away from Ray's lips, and Ray could see that Benny's blush was   
starting to fade, and a faint beading of sweat had broken out along his upper lip. Ray could   
hardly think for wanting to lick that sweat off Benny's upper lip, run his tongue just there,   
following the little indentations, then sweeping along the perfect bow of those perfect lips. Oh   
Christ, Ray moaned softly to himself, this was the stupidest idea.  Why hadn't he just driven   
straight (ahem) to the nearest cheap motel and checked them in this morning. Right now, thanks   
to that film of sweat along Benny's upper lip, he wouldn't even be able to stand up without   
humiliating himself. And, unless he missed his guess, given the vigour with which Benny had   
returned his kisses, he was going to be in exactly the same position as Ray. 

In spite of his blush, Ben was more amused than angered by the predicament he and Ray found   
themselves in. He realized that Ray would get upset if the teasing went on too long, and being an   
expert Ray teaser, in his own way, he also knew that Ray was getting close to the point when he   
could reliably be counted on to explode into, at the very least, sarcasm and bad language.  Ben   
would have to act quickly to defuse the situation.  He turned his best bland Mountie countenance   
upon the assembled hecklers and smiled. "Gentlemen," he began, somewhat formally for a   
baseball game, he realized, but then, a certain formality had almost always worked in past when   
he had needed to control a situation. Ray, who had other ideas about formality and baseball,   
hissed in his ear, "What the hell are you doing, Benny?" 

Ben just smiled and continued "Gentlemen. Thank you for your warm reception. But as you can   
see, while my companion and I were otherwise engaged, I am afraid that we lost track of the   
game. I was wondering if any of you could tell us the score." Several scores were called out,   
some differing quite widely, five runs in one case and a general discussion ensued. Given that   
several supporters for the Lacey's team were seated right next to the Pita Pan crowd which had   
been bantering with Ray and Ben, that discussion was proving to be quite lively. The focus off   
their actions, Ben allowed himself a little sigh of relief. He felt Ray start to relax, and reached   
over to stroke Ray's hand as it lay on his thigh. 

Ray brought his lips close to Ben's ear and whispered raggedly, "Gawd, Benny. All you have to   
do is touch me and I get hard." 

Ben's own groin responded to the need in Ray's voice and he turned slightly to face Ray. Being   
careful not to let his lips get within the magnetic field that Ray's seemed to emit, he nodded and   
said, "If it's any consolation Ray, you appear to have the same effect on me." He carefully   
brushed his fingertips along Ray's temple. 

"They didn't mean any harm, Benny." Ray said somewhat anxiously. 

Ben nodded again. "I know, Ray. But if I may make a suggestion, we might want to consider   
moving during the next flurry of activity." Even he, or perhaps, especially he, could not have   
mistaken the good-natured intent behind the ribald joking; yet this did not mean that he had any   
desire for a quick repeat of their previous encounter. 

"Good thinking, Bat-boy." Ray grinned at him. 

"Ray, is that another baseball expression?" Ben asked. Ray just groaned, shaking his head,   
refusing to get conned into another cultural difference conversation. 

*** 

Fortunately, they were able to sneak off almost immediately. The Pansies scored two runs off a   
double to right field, and while everyone's attention was focussed on the field, Ray stood up   
quickly, grabbed Ben's hand and whisked them off along the edge of the diamond. The park had   
many shady quiet places, in addition to the playing fields and play areas, and Ray led them to a   
fairly private pathway adjacent to a small ornamental lake. 

"Well Benny," he said, changing the subject, "What did you think of Marco?" 

"He seems like a very intelligent man, Ray. When did you get back in touch with him? Because,   
as I recall, at the time of the thing with Zuko, you didn't know what had become of him."  Ben   
instinctively suspected that this was the conversation Ray had brought him out here to have; a   
conversation that he was in full agreement needed to happen. 

"Well, you remember when all that stuff went down with Zuko, how I finally got wise and stood   
up to the bastard?" Ben nodded. He could have hardly forgotten it; he had worried for months   
afterward for Ray's safety. "I got to thinkin' about my own responses to Zuko, and how I had   
felt when he did that to Marco, and seeing what he did to you, what he was going to do to   
Paducci \-- I just snapped, ya know? I knew I couldn't live with myself if I stood by again. I knew   
that night in the cafeteria that I loved you, but I couldn't seem to put the pieces together. I didn't   
want to face it." 

He looked at Ben, his eyes moist.  Ben murmured facilitating noises, and squeezed  Ray's hand.   
He knew that this must have been an extraordinarily difficult time for Ray. 

"I started to wonder about how I felt toward Marco, and why I had abandoned him,  cos, I knew   
that part of it was just that I was scared to stand up to Zuko, but there was something else there   
too, and I needed to get to the bottom of it.  It was hard, but I finally realized that part of the   
reason I had been scared to stand up to Zuko was that I was worried that he would think I was a   
fairy, ya know, sticking up for Marco, and then, I realized that yeah, I had been attracted to   
Marco  -- he was funny, smart, just a nice guy, but I had just buried that stuff. I mean, if you had   
had my dad..." he shook his head, remembering the scene last night. 

"Well, you can imagine. Plus the neighbourhood -- Catholic, mostly Italian and Polish, \-- they   
don't got time for  alternative lifestyles', which by the way, they called queer, neither did the   
cops, at least when I joined up.  So I did a lot of denying, got married, got divorced, let Ange   
think it was her fault.  Yeah, I was running so hard away from myself, I couldn't see which way   
was up. Not a pretty picture, huh?" Ray swallowed hard. 

Ben wondered why it hadn't been like that for him, why he hadn't had self-doubt that seared into   
his soul in the way that Ray was describing. Not that he hadn't self-doubts, but maybe the   
difference had been that he had very early on in life had to be self-reliant, and in being self-reliant, perhaps he had learned to trust his own instincts about himself. Ray, because his sense of   
community had been such a fundamental aspect of how his existence was defined, must   
necessarily have been placed in a situation where he would doubt himself in the way that he had   
indicated. While Ben had often felt in awe of the community and family ties that Ray had, he   
now reflected that those ties did not come without a cost. 

Ben looked tenderly at his lover and said, "I think that a world of bullies, bigotry and   
homophobia is not a pretty picture, Ray. It might well have been suicidal for you to have tried to   
deal with those issues at 14 or 15." 

"Yeah, well, be that as it may Benny, it still don't look so hot from where I'm standin' right now.   
Any how, while I'm workin' through this stuff -- comin' out to myself first and realizing that I'm   
attracted to you, that maybe I even *love* you, I also know I just gotta find out what happened   
to Marco.  Kinda to put things right, or ask for his forgiveness.  I mean, I knew that the guy   
ought to have told me to take a hike. After all, I stood there while Zuko turned his face to mush,   
but still, it was like something I needed to do before I was free to go on with the rest of my life.   
I dunno if this makes any sense, ya know. Probably at some psychological level.  So, I track   
Marco down. Elaine helped a bit, found out he had an Illinois driver's license and I got his   
address and phone number. I was so scared, dialling the phone. It was like I was 14 again. So   
like he answers, and I introduce myself, and instead of slamming the phone down in my ear,   
which personally, I wouldn't have blamed him for, he asks about what I'm doing and stuff like   
that.  Then he asks me if I wanted to meet him for coffee and I say yes.  Well, we just seemed to   
click again  -- as friends only  cos he was already living with Cecil, and well, even if I knew I   
couldn't have you, I was still hoping." 

Ray grinned at Ben, who couldn't resist, and pointedly said, "And now that you have me, what   
are you going to do with me?" 

"Shut up Benny, you're supposed to be helping here. Anyhow, after about the third or fourth   
time we go out for a beer or coffee together, he asks me back to his place.  And well, I guess I   
really didn't need the king-size bed to tell me that he and Cecil were lovers, but it sure made it a   
little easier for me to come out to him.  So we finally put our cards on the table, and we end up   
talking about what happened between me and him and Zuko. It really helped me to see how he   
felt, and that he, well, that he had forgiven me a long time ago for what had happened." 

"He's a very special person, Ray. I'm so glad that you had that support there when you needed   
it." Ben was quickly thinking this through in terms of time frame.  It must have been about the   
same time as his entanglement with Victoria. He knew that Ray had been hurting then, but he   
hadn't been able to draw himself free from his own unfinished business. 

In retrospect, he realized that he had already fallen in love with Ray, a fact that perhaps only his   
subconscious had been aware of. Nevertheless, he had felt the need to effect some sort of   
completion between himself and Victoria, a closing of that chapter of his life, a closing that he   
now realized was necessary for him to be able to get on with loving Ray. His only mistake had   
been believing that he was able to control the situation. He sighed inwardly. Perhaps that was the   
price of his being so self-reliant -- he had no reason to doubt his instincts and so he was   
completely unprepared when everything went so wrong.  Sometimes a little self-doubt was   
clearly indicated. On the other hand, maybe he too had been running away. 

"Yeah, Marco's been there for me for the last two years.  It helped that he knew his way around   
the gay scene. He showed me the ropes, kept me from making an ass of myself. But ya know, the   
most important thing was that I had someone I could talk to about you.  You remember when I   
almost lost it with Frannie. Gawd, I was this close to kicking first her, then you, and then her   
again.  You and your misplaced sense of honour, and her teasing the hell out of me. It took me a   
long time to forgive either of you." He looked at Ben, speculatively.  "I don't suppose...?" 

"You have my word, Ray, that it was not even a first base situation." Ben responded. 

"Well, that's a relief." Ray laughed. The path they had been following came to a small bridge   
which crossed a creek leading into the lake.  Instead of continuing along the path, Ray steered   
them toward a copse of willows skirting the creek some distance from the edge of the lake.  Here   
the willows bent low over the water, and the creek swelled into a little pond, a rope dangling   
from one of the overhanging branches indicated the swimming hole potential of the site. Ray and   
Ben sat side by side on the almost horizontal trunk of one of the trees, the smoothness of the   
normally rough bark bearing silent testimony that they were not the first to rest here. 

"But something she said about me being afraid of my dreams, or afraid to dream, really struck   
home, and I started to put stuff together then. I realized that I didn't really care, well, within   
reason, who Frannie was seeing, but it hit me like a ton of bricks that I cared about who you   
were seeing.  It was after that that I figured out what had happened with Marco and Zuko.   
Unfortunately, before I had worked up my nerve to tell you, well at least to tell you I was gay, I   
mean, I'm not sure I would've had the nerve to tell you the other..." Ray hesitated a little. 

Ben found it hard to resist teasing Ray just a little. "What other would that be, Ray?" 

"That I loved ..." The penny dropped, and Ray grinned at Ben, who was smiling his seraphic   
smile. "I told you, I'm on to you Benny.  You are not nearly as innocent as you would like me to   
believe." 

"Well Ray, I know it's cheating, but I have my reasons: I just can't hear you say  I love you'   
often enough. Besides, all's fair in love and war, or so they say." 

"Yeah, well, I guess that sums up the whole Victoria incident, doesn't it." Ray's voice dropped,   
and Ben flinched at Ray's mention of Victoria.  On the other hand, Ray deserved to know as   
much as Benny himself knew about that epidsode. 

Ray continued, "After all that happened, I mean, you, Victoria, you leaving, me shooting you, I   
couldn't tell you. I didn't know how. I thought I had screwed everything up, our friendship,   
particularly.  I didn't know nothin' about nothin' for a while there. It was only when we were   
talking about your dad's cabin and  you said you had two axes, that I felt there might be any   
hope of us being still friends." Ray stared out unseeingly at the pool of water. 

"Ray... I ... I'm so sorry for what happened then." Ben knew that he would have to try to explain   
what had happened, and gently took Ray's face in his hand and turned it so that Ray was looking   
at him. "I need to try to explain it to you, but I'm not sure how to do it." 

Ray reached out to run his finger over the back of the hand that was still cupping his face.   
Taking Benny's hand in his, he said softly, "You don't need to explain anything, Benny. All we   
need to worry about is what we have now." 

"No, Ray. I need to be honest with you about this, and, I guess, I need to be honest with myself   
about it as well.  I think that part of what happened with Victoria was that I too needed to   
achieve closure of one facet of my life before I began another one. You see Ray, I think I must   
have already been falling in love with you when Victoria turned up in my life again.  I suspect   
that I ended up transferring a lot of the feelings I was feeling for you to her.   I mean, when she   
arrived in Chicago, I just assumed that the...ah...erotic feelings I was having were caused by her   
arrival.  I convinced myself that I was in love with her, I mean it felt like being in love, and I   
guess it was. Only it wasn't her I was in love with, it was you." 

"Oh, Christ, Benny, no." Ray could hardly look at Benny, his heart was breaking all over again.   
"She used our relationship to do her dirty work for her, and I let her. Finally, when I realized that   
I hadn't been in love with her at all, and that by misreading the situation so badly I had placed   
you in such a vulnerable position, I just wanted to run away.  I felt ... dirty, and ashamed of what   
I had done. Worse of all, I felt like you would never be able to love me after what I had done,   
and that I didn't deserve to have your love.  I didn't need to forgive you for shooting me.  At the   
time, it seemed like almost like a ritual cleansing. Either I was to perish by your hand, or if I   
survived, I would be clean again, the Gods would have been appeased, and we would be able to   
go on from there. You see, in the end, the shooting gave me hope, Ray. Of course at first, all I   
wanted to do was die, and I was angry at you for not having shot straighter, or for not letting me   
die on the platform." 

Ray leaned forward and covered Benny's lips with his own, his kiss the only response he knew   
how to make to Benny's confession. 

When they separated, Ben said, "I love you, Ray.  I always have." 

"I love you too, Benny." 

*** 

Once again the distance between their lips closed. Before the kiss had a chance to deepen, Ray   
pulled away. Ben looked at Ray's face, searching for the doubt he felt might have accompanied   
his confession, but he found only Ray's eyes glowing greenly with love, and, well, lust; Ray's   
lips moist from their kiss, parted ever so slightly; Ray's breath coming in ragged gasps. 

Ben's concern at Ray's withdrawal must have been obvious, because Ray rushed to reassure   
him, his voice husky, but steady. "Don't worry, Benny, I'm not going away. Not ever, if I have   
anything to do with it. It's just that I don't think we should continue kissing like that unless we   
are prepared to make love in those bushes over there. And you know, I think I'm a little old for   
the fumbling around in the fresh air, not that it doesn't have its attractions right now." And one   
of the chief attractions was the thought of finally, *finally*, getting into Benny's pants. 

The little preview he had of Benny's not inconsiderable charms this morning did nothing to   
dissuade him from the desirability of bending over a park bench and having Benny fuck him   
right there in front of the ducks and the jesus freaks. His groin filled with heat, his erection   
rubbing almost painfully against the cloth of his jockey shorts. If they didn't actually fuck soon,   
he was going to embarrass himself and come in his pants, whimpering at Benny's feet in a public   
place. 

Ben relaxed a bit, smiling at the thought of making love with Ray in a public park at high noon   
on a summer Saturday.  It might prove interesting he thought, though in his experience, al fresco   
love-making had some drawbacks. On the other hand, anything that would let him run his hands   
all over, and he meant all over, Ray's body couldn't be all bad, and besides, this little glade must   
be all but invisible from the main pathway. 

He envisioned Ray, in heavenly deshabille, sprawled on the grass, trousers around his ankles,   
and himself running his tongue up the length of Ray's cock, savouring the taste of Ray's pre-cum, swirling his tongue over the head of Ray's cock, all the while watching Ray's reactions to   
his actions. Fraser's corollary to Newton's third law of motion. In true love, for every action,   
there is an equally intense reaction. Only, the reaction at the moment was an intensification of   
his arousal in a way that was rapidly becoming uncomfortable, his jeans offering scant   
concealment for the burgeoning erection his momentary erotic lapse had inspired. 

Ray's hot breath tickled Ben's neck, and in a hoarse whisper, Ray chanted, "I know what you're   
thinking" in Ben's ear, while at the same time running the knuckle of his index finger over the   
bulge in Ben's trousers. Ben gasped, unprepared for the intensity with which Ray's rough caress   
transmitted itself to Ben's groin.  He moaned into Ray's neck, licking the sweat trickling down   
behind Ray's perfect ear, biting the muscle running obliquely down Ray's throat.   
    
Ray let his head roll backward, exposing his neck to Benny's eager kisses, moaning softly as   
Benny licked and nipped his way down to the collar of Ray's shirt. Benny's hands came forward,   
and started to unbutton Ray's shirt, his mouth still busily occupied with exploring Ray's neck.   
Ray's own hands slid around Benny's waist, and pulled the white T-shirt free from Benny's   
jeans.  Benny's skin was damp, sweat pooling along his spine and Ray drew his fingers through   
it, lost in the feeling of Benny's skin, his fingers gliding along the firm columns of muscle on   
either side of Benny's spine, massaging with his fingertips, carefully drawing small circles with   
his nails. His pulse, thrumming to the beat of Benny's name over and over again, threatened to   
overwhelm all thoughts except those of sensual abandon. Ray brought his head forward, burying   
his nose in Benny's hair, kissing it, nuzzling the dark damp curls. The soap smell mixed with   
Benny's own scent was intoxicating, and Ray filled his nostrils with it. 

Please, please let nothing stop them now, he prayed silently. As a police officer, he knew   
rationally, (though what rationality had to do with this particular situation, he was hard pressed   
to say), that making out in a public place, especially in broad daylight was a criminal offence.   
Coupled with the fact that both of the participants are law enforcement officers, he figured that   
whichever uniform bagged them would have a career on Geraldo or Jerry Springer telling his or   
her story. Of course, rationality had nothing to do with this situation and besides, he had a pretty   
good idea that no one would be by at this time of the day. It was too early for the after lunch   
crowd, and it was too far from the parking lot for it to be attractive to picnickers. Ray squirmed   
under Benny's mouth's ministrations, his breathing coming in ragged bursts. 

It took all of his very scattered concentration to form the words, and getting them to come out of   
his mouth in the order he had intended proved to be an even more difficult task.  Still, he had to   
ask, to be sure. "Benny, if you don't want to make love now, we have to stop. Otherwise, I am   
going to have no control over my actions."   
  

Ben had succeeded in getting Ray's shirt unbuttoned, and was running his hands over Ray's   
chest, fingers skimming over Ray's sensitive abdomen, moving upward.  Ben's hands pushed the   
shirt front back over Ray's shoulders, exposing his delicate collar bones, his flat brown nipples,   
the soft olive skin of his belly. Ray's statement made his pulse race, he wanted to make love   
now, right here, on this tree, on the grass. He drank in Ray's beauty, and let his lips drift down   
until he could feel Ray's right nipple under them. He gently licked at the tiny nub, sucking it in   
ever so slightly. Ray moaned, and Ben could feel Ray's nails scrape along his spine. The nub   
grew firm beneath his lips, and just seemed to be crying out for a little nibbling. Gently, ever so   
gently, Ben's teeth teased Ray's nipple, and were rewarded with the nub increasing in size. 

Ben's senses were overwhelmed, the scent of Ray's arousal, the softness of Ray's skin, the taste   
of the sweat slick nipple, rosy and hard beneath his lips. He finally dragged his mouth from   
Ray's chest, and looking up at the man that he loved, whispered, "Oh yes, let's make love now,   
Ray." the raw need eloquent in Ben's lust thickened voice. 

Ray felt himself lose all sense of bodily coherence at Benny's words; it was as though his nerves   
had become cross-wired, and even the slightest touch on an otherwise innocuous portion of skin   
blazed a trail to his groin. Of course, Benny's attentions to his nipples hardly fell into the   
category of innocuous, and the signals his nervous system was receiving ranked up there with   
major electrical surges.  He felt that his hands must be sort of helplessly pawing at Benny's back,   
his neural network unable to cope with the notion of voluntary motion.  Benny had shifted his   
oral attention to Ray's left nipple, while continuing the delightful torture of the right nipple with   
his finger nails. 

Ray thought that he was going to come just from looking down and seeing Benny's perfect lips   
around his nipple, pink tongue darting out to circle the erectile tissue, licking it into life. He   
abandoned Benny's back, and used his hands to cradle Benny's head to his chest.  He could feel   
Benny's right hand fumbled with the button at the top of Ray's pants. The tension almost   
unbearable, Ray slid his hand down to help undo the clasp. Their fingers, brushing accidently at   
the waistband of Ray's pants, lit off another surge of heat to Ray's groin, a heat that spread   
upwards to his belly, and down the insides of his thighs.  His skin was tingling with need, his   
cock straining to be released.  Slowly, ever so slowly, Benny slid the zipper down, pressing   
firmly on Ray's swollen groin. Ray buried his face in the top of Benny's curly head and moaned   
incoherently as Benny spread the cloth out of the way, revealing Ray's erection, the damp spot   
on his jockey shorts indication the extent of Ray's desire. 

Sliding down to kneel between Ray's spread thighs Ben kept hold of Ray's nipples with his   
fingers, gently rolling them between his finger tips, feeling their responsiveness in his own groin.   
He brought his face level with Ray's cotton covered crotch, and then leaned in, resting his cheek   
on the bulge made by Ray's cock.  Breathing in the scent of Ray's crotch, warm, sweat slick and   
perfumed by the tang of Ray's pre-cum seemed to fuse this primitive sense with an even more   
primative urge.  Ben wanted to devour Ray's groin, taste every inch of that sweetness, lick clean   
every nook and cranny.  He moved his mouth closer to Ray's cock, and exhaled through the   
knitted cotton, his hot breath infiltrating the fabric, reaching the sensitive skin, causing Ray's   
cock to move involuntarily. 

Ray couldn't believe that Benny was kneeling between his thighs, his mouth only millimetres   
from Ray's cock. Benny looked like a fallen angel, the sensual pleasure writ large on his   
countenance warring with his austere beauty. Ray's moans became more urgent, and he slid his   
thumbs under the waist band of his underwear, and in a single move, shucked both underwear   
and trousers down his thighs as far as they would go. At the same time he slid his butt off the   
tree and let his rubbery legs touch the ground, so that he was half standing, half leaning against   
the tree.   Benny adjusted his position, so that his breath continued to torment Ray's cock, and   
Ray moaned, "Benny. Gawd. Please...please, Benny, touch me." 

Ben brought one hand down and stroked Ray's cock, allowing his index finger to dawdle over   
the sensitive tip, slipping easily over the pre-cum slicked surface. The other hand meanwhile   
continued the delicious torment of Ray's nipples, plucking and teasing. Ray grasped Ben's hair   
in his right hand, running his fingers through the dark curls and brought his left hand to his own   
nipple, his actions mimicking Ben's. 

The sight of Ray pleasuring himself, playing with his nipple, tweaking up the hardened point,   
left Ben weak with desire. Groaning, Ben shifted his grip on Ray's cock downward to grasp   
Ray's full balls while his tongue experimentally ran along the full length of Ray's erection.   
Ray's hips moved involuntarily forward, and the head of Ray's cock butted up against Ben's   
lips.  Opening his lips, Ben carefully admitted the head of Ray's cock. The taste of Ray's pre-cum awakened Ben's tastebuds, and he knew that he had to have all that Ray had to offer, he had   
to taste and swallow all of Ray's desire. 

Ray watched as Benny took his cock into his mouth, past disbelief, past caring about anything   
except the intimate contact between him and the man kneeling in front of him.  The sight of his   
cock sliding into Benny's mouth was almost more than Ray could bear. He could feel his balls   
start to tighten, the familiar ache that precedes release enveloping them, Benny's mouth   
enveloping his cock. The only sound he could form with his lips was Benny's name, and saying   
it over and over, like a mantra, Ray started to move against Benny's mouth. 

Watchful of catching the delicate skin against his teeth, Ben worked as much of Ray's erection   
into his mouth as he was able, silently cursing that he had never been particularly adept at deep-throating, revelling in the taste and smell of Ray.  Ray was starting to thrust in earnest with his   
hips, each movement driving his cock a little deeper down Ben's throat.  Ben slid his hand past   
Ray's balls, to the expanse of perineum extending back toward Ray's anus.  Making sure he was   
not being too rough, Ben ran his nails experimentally over the area, pushing firmly, yet gently   
against the tender flesh, making Ray writhe even as he continued to thrust with his hips.   
Drawing his mouth up along the length of Ray's cock, Ben once again swirled his tongue over   
the head, seeking out the tiny slit, licking the vestigial ridge of foreskin, compressing the head   
ever so slightly between his tongue and palate. Ray's hand entangled itself in Ben's hair, and   
using it as a lever, Ray was able to force his cock deeper into Ben's eager mouth. 

Quickly establishing a rhythm, Ben sucked Ray's cock in time with the thrusts while his hand   
fondled Ray's balls, feeling the tension build as they drew closer to Ray's body, and skimmed   
behind them to tease Ray's perineum and anus.  Just as the rhythm seemed to flow naturally   
from Ray to Ben, Ray's hips began to drive his cock into Ben's mouth erratically. Ray's hand   
gripped Ben's head, almost, but not quite, painfully. Ben, glancing up at Ray saw only his lust   
darkened, half closed eyes, and parted lips, before Ray cried out and came in Ben's mouth, his   
semen filling the back of Ben's throat, Ben's name on his lips. 

Ray's climax almost pushed Ben over the edge himself.  He could not remember when he had   
been so aroused. Even his ministrations in the shower last night hadn't hinted at the intensity of   
lovemaking with Ray.  Reluctantly he released Ray's now spent cock from his mouth; however,   
he was unable to resist a final lick of the exquisite shaft, and as his tongue reached the tip, the   
hand in his hair pulled him away from his prize. He groaned in disappointment, and looked up   
into Ray's face, shiny with sweat, his features relaxed in post-coital languor. 

"It's too intense, Benny. After that blow job, anything is way too intense.  Gawd, I can't believe   
you did that;  I can't believe I let you suck my cock in broad daylight in a public park. I can't   
believe that I'm still conscious." Ray shook his head, clearly attempting to regain some level of   
normal cognition, his hand idly tracing the slant of Ben's eyebrow, sweeping the disarray of dark   
curls from Ben's forehead. 

Ben, manfully resisting a further assault on Ray's cock, captured Ray's hand and once Ray   
figured out what was going on, he provided assistance to help Ben stand up.  Ben's erection was   
pressing very insistently into the cloth of his jeans and once in a standing position, he moved his   
body against Ray's, his mouth finding Ray's. Sliding his tongue between Ray's lips, Ben probed   
Ray's mouth deeply, exploring the moist cavity again, allowing Ray to taste himself on Ben's   
tongue. Ray's own tongue pressed back with equal vigour, penetrating Ben's lips, seeking   
complete access to Ben's oral cavity. Ben rubbed his aching groin against Ray's thigh, almost   
begging for release then and there, wanting Ray to take him in his hands and stroke him until he   
came. 

Ray, however, clearly had other ideas.  He gently disengaged Benny's lips from his own. The   
taste of his own come on Benny's tongue had been so arousing that he could feel himself starting   
to get hard again. However, given the size of the erection that was poking into his thigh, he   
needed to bring Benny off before he exploded, even if it did cause a total Vecchio meltdown. 

Pressing Benny back just slightly, he slipped the flat of his hand between their chests.  Skilfully,   
he found Benny's right nipple and ran the tips of his nails over it. Benny's moan was cut off as   
he bit softly into the side of Ray's neck, his pelvis arching forward against Ray's still naked   
groin.  The contact which would have been too intense only scant moments ago, was now   
pleasantly stimulating, and Ray ground his groin into Benny's erection. Benny's head flew back   
when Ray bent his head and took the erect nipple, clearly visible through the damp cotton T-shirt, in his mouth. 

Ray's assault on Ben's nipples left him wordlessly gasping for air which seemed remarkably low   
in oxygen. Probably it doesn't matter, Ben thought, brain damage already was at a maximum.   
Any remaining brain cells died a natural death when Ray had sucked at his nipples, the wet   
cotton acting as a super-conductor for the devastating sensations Ray was producing with his   
teeth and tongue.  Blowing gently over the wet fabric, Ray's lips curved into a wide grin at the   
sight of Benny shivering uncontrollably. 

Still continuing his attention to Benny's chest, Ray slid his hand between their groins and   
finding the bulge of Benny's erection, he squeezed it roughly through Benny's jeans.  Benny   
moaned at Ray's touch, and rubbed his still enclosed cock needily against Ray's hand. Ray could   
feel rather than hear Ben's pleas for release, the soft moans which Benny whimpered into his ear,   
his voice hoarse, his breath ragged, as he fucked himself against Ray's hand. 

Ray reluctantly removed his mouth from Benny's chest and his hand from Benny's groin, and   
placing his hands on Benny's shoulders, gently turned him so that his back was to Ray. Drawing   
Benny back against him, Ray resumed teasing Benny's nipples through the wet cloth. Ben's head   
slumped back against Ray's shoulder, exposing his neck to Ray's delicate nips. His full weight   
came to rest against Ray, his ass pressing into Ray's groin, the presence of Ray's incipient   
erection registering at some neural level, the cheeks of his ass shifting ever so slightly back and   
forth to ensure maximum contact. Ray's right hand slid agonizingly slowly down Ben's chest,   
over his stomach, and came to rest teasingly on the waistband of Ben's jeans. 

Ben's mouth, apparently of its own volition, since Ben didn't remember deciding to speak,   
formed the words,  please', and  yes' and  Ray', as Ray started to undo the buttons of Ben's   
jeans. And as he heard Ray's answering chuckle, "Oh yes, Benny. Don't worry, we'll make you   
come, you're are going to come so hard" he plunged his hips toward Ray's hand. 

Ben couldn't believe the way in which Ray's words turned him on.  He could probably climax   
just from Ray whispering lewd suggestions to him. In the meantime however, Ray clearly had   
another method on his mind. He continued with his slow teasing.  Each button was a savage   
torment for Ben, Ray's fingers lingering ever so slightly over his erection between unbuttonings,   
his other hand still actively manipulating Ben's nipples.  Ben supposed he must have hands   
somewhere, but he couldn't remember what he had done with them last, or even reliably where   
they were now. Ben's body's every fibre was bound up by the mesmerizing exposure implied by   
Ray's seductive unfastening of his buttons. 

Finally, Ray removed his hand from the front of Ben's jeans and Ben assumed that his fly was   
now undone, however, since he had lost count of the procedure somewhere between buttons 3   
and 4, he couldn't be sure.  Well, he couldn't be sure of anything at the moment, except that he   
felt sooo good plastered against Ray's groin, and that his own groin was throbbing for release.   
Ray moved his hands down to grip Ben's waistband, and in a single rapid movement, skinned   
both the jeans and the boxer shorts beneath them over Ben's hips, and half way down his thighs. 

Moving one hand back up to Benny's chest, this time under the T-shirt, Ray rolled the sensitive   
erect nub between his fingers, at the same time pressing Benny's whole body back against his   
own. Not that Benny needed much encouragement, since he was sliding his ass oh, so invitingly   
over Ray's cock. 

Concentrating on the matter at hand, as it were, Ray ran his other hand down Benny's belly until   
he touched Benny's erection.  "Oh, you like that do you, Benny?" Ray asked, his voice low and   
sultry, his breath teasing Benny's ear.  He was rewarded with Benny's semi-vocal response, and   
an increase in the intensity with which Benny was starting to thrust into Ray's hand. 

Ben pushed back against Ray's erection, the sweat slick cock sliding up between the cheeks of   
his ass in a most enticing manner, and then he rocked forward against Ray's hand, thrusting   
toward the promise of relief. Ray's hand expertly slid over the surface of Ben's cock, his thumb   
circling the head, teasingly drawing the foreskin back, exposing the sensitive skin to his feather   
light touches. Ray's groin matched Ben's thrusts, so his ass was in constant contact with the   
exquisite teasing of Ray's cock, while his cock fucked itself into Ray's come-wet hand. Ben's   
balls tightened in their sac, and Ben could feel the trembling that usually preceded his release. So   
close, so close, and he wanted it to last forever, balancing on the knife edge of pleasure, staving   
off release, savouring the intensity of his desire. 

Ray's tongue ran down the length of Ben's neck, and returned to its post beside Ben's ear, and   
Ray's hot mouth, millimetres from Ben's ear, asked, in a hoarse whisper, "Oh Benny, can you   
feel how much I want to fuck you?  How hot you make me? Feel my cock against your ass,   
doesn't that feel good?"  All rational thought fled from Ben's lust fogged brain, and   
accompanied by a guttural cry of pure need, he plunged his cock forward into Ray's hand, his   
climax complete. 

Slowly his surroundings reformed around him and Ben became aware of his hands, which were   
still grasping the cloth of  Ray's trousers tightly, a vain attempt to achieve an anchor in the   
recent wrenching chaos.  Ray's breath was coming in uneven gasps filled his ear, and Ray's   
groin continued to push against Ben's ass, the hardness of Ray's cock slippery with sweat and   
pre-cum sliding along the cleft of Ben's buttocks. 

Almost as though he were thinking in slow motion, or perhaps, more like he could watch the   
thoughts take form in his mind -- a sort of out of body experience -- Ben realized what was going   
on, and was very pleased with himself for being able to elicit that sort of a response from Ray so   
soon after his first orgasm.  Rousing himself from his post orgasmic torpor, he pressed his ass   
against Ray's groin, pinning Ray between himself and the tree trunk. 

The increased pressure from Benny's perfect ass drove Ray closer to the edge of release.   
Bringing Benny off so completely, whispering forbidden wishes into his ear and feeling his   
responses had aroused Ray in a way that was quite unlike his previous sexual experiences.   
Rather than a having a discrete (ahem) beginning and end, love making with Benny seemed to   
have the potential to loop pleasure back around itself like an erotic mobius strip, and Ray seemed   
firmly caught in the loop. Now, with Benny pressing against him, nibbling at his ear, biting his   
neck, murmuring encouragement through lust parched lips, placing his hands on Ray's hips and   
pulling them closer together, Ray could feel the orgasm building in his balls, spreading outward   
like the opening of a particularly vibrant exotic flower, until his semen flowed between his belly   
and the precious curve of Benny's ass cheeks. 

Ray's climax seemed the match that finally ignited the last tatters of Ben's self control, and   
before he knew what he was doing, or even how he managed to get there, he was on his knees   
between Ray's thighs, licking Ray's belly clean, lapping up the evidence of Ray's desire for him.   
He felt, well he wasn't sure how to express what it was that he felt.  Released, yes, certainly, but   
also, perhaps, sexy, attractive, desirable. Still, there was more than that as well. His mind   
worried at this problem while his tongue traced the trail of hair down Ray's belly, removing any   
stray drops of semen. 

Ray drew him up gently to a standing position, and pushed his tongue into Ben's mouth.  The   
aggressive heat of Ray's tongue made Ben's cock stir again, and he pressed forward, against   
Ray, wanting their bodies to become one, to fuse muscle and bone,  and their skins to grow   
together: a patchwork of their love. 

Ben whimpered as Ray turned him around again and gripping his hips, Ray quickly knelt behind   
him.  Ben wasn't sure what to expect, but as Ray started licking his own semen from Ben's   
buttocks, sliding his tongue between the cheeks of Ben's ass, the gentle roughness of his tongue   
drove all thoughts from Ben's brain, and he gave himself up with abandon to the sensual   
debasement Ray's tongue was effecting. Somewhere in the dimmer recesses of his mind, clearly   
an area that could function without oxygen or blood, Ben realized that that was the very word he   
had been looking for. He felt debased by what he and Ray were doing, but it was not a negative   
debasement, a degradation or humiliation; rather, he allowed, it was the sort of fundamental   
shift, a de-basing, a sweeping away of all the barriers he had been erecting over the course of   
thirty-some odd years, a realization of his erotic potential, a reformation of his very core of   
being. 

He desperately wanted Ray's tongue to continue its passage downward, he wanted to open up all   
parts of himself to Ray's tongue, fingers, cock, to be filled, and licked and probed, to be made   
Ray's, and Ray's alone.  The intensity of his feelings shocked him, and he understood that he   
would do whatever it was that Ray wanted, he was powerless to refuse Ray his body, and his   
soul, and more importantly, he had wilfully and perversely abdicated any such power, and would   
joyously do so again. 

Ray's hand started to move towards Ben's partially erect cock, while his mouth continued to   
tease Ben's ass. In the small part of his brain that remained functional, Ben knew that they   
couldn't continue what they were doing, where they were doing it. He pulled away, turned, and   
roughly pulled Ray to his feet. His voice ragged and harsh from passion, he begged, "No Ray, no   
more. Not now." 

Ray's face registered surprise at Benny's abrupt apparent change of heart. Silently he cursed   
himself for pushing Benny too far, too fast; for scaring Benny. Initially, in spite of Benny's   
eagerness, he had allowed Benny to set the pace, not wanting to take their love making any   
where Benny hadn't wanted to go.  He had thought that Benny's responses had indicated that he   
was okay with what they had been doing, but maybe he should have waited, before complicating   
things.  Certainly something had set Benny off.  He had pulled away from Ray almost violently,   
and Ray had never heard those tones in his voice.  Uncertain of his reception, he started to speak,   
to apologize, to make amends, "Benny, I'm ..." But Benny's mouth closed over his, his tongue   
pushing past Ray's lips, the tip running over Ray's palate, mapping the tiny ridges there, before   
entangling itself with Ray's own tongue. 

When their mouths finally separated, and Ray looked at Benny's flushed face, eyes dark with   
lust, fixed almost unseeingly on Ray's own face, the dark curls in damp disarray, he decided that   
whatever it was that had prompted Benny's interruption of their lovemaking, it wasn't likely that   
Benny was regretting what they had just finished or rather, not finished, doing. His arms around   
Benny, Ray bent forward until his forehead just touched Benny's, and said softly, "Benny, you   
are so beautiful, and I love you so much. I just can's seem to stop when I'm touching you." 

Ben could feel fragmented parts of his brain start to reform, thoughts coalescing once again in an   
almost rational way. He had correctly interpreted Ray's stricken look just after he pulled away   
from him, but at that moment, the only true way of removing Ray's self doubt had been through   
their physical contact. Now, finally, he felt he might be able to put his thoughts together in some   
sort of verbal communication that would make sense to someone besides himself.  He smiled   
shyly at Ray, looking down at their entwined bodies, still butt naked, with their pants around   
their knees.  Oh dear, if only the consulate staff could see him now, he thought wryly, they   
would be in for the shock of their tiny lives. He shook his head, attempting to clear the incidental   
random thoughts cluttering up his still fragile thought processes. 

He brought his hands up to stroke Ray's face, his fingers tracing the lines of Ray's cheek bones,   
rubbing gently across Ray's lips.  Touching Ray, that casual physical intimacy of close contact,   
seemed to allow him to finally speak. His voice still unsteady, he managed to say, " I know Ray.   
I can't stop either, and I feel overwhelmed by how profound my reactions to you are." Ray   
started when Ben said  overwhelmed' and Ben rushed to reassure him. "It's okay, Ray. It's a   
good type of overwhelmed, one which I am planning on getting to know a lot better very soon."   
He slid his eyes sideways at Ray, letting him know exactly how he planned to be overwhelmed. 

"Benny, I think it is time we went somewhere at little more comfortable, ya know?  Not that I   
have any complaints, but there are some things even I don't want to think about doing right here.   
Besides, we've been lucky so far, not to have had any interruptions."   Ray said as he pulled his   
pants up, and carefully closing zipper. 

"Agreed, Ray." Ben was having more difficulty in achieving a quick return to decency.  His cock   
was still quite erect, and each button on his jeans was a painful, if arousing experience. 

Ray flashed him a lewd grin and bringing his lips to Ben's ear, whispered, "It's a good job we   
cleaned each other off so well, isn't it. It would have been kinda messy otherwise." Ben groaned   
at the jolt Ray's words caused to go through his already overloaded nervous system. 

*** 

Arriving back at the parking lot, Ben cast about, looking for Dief.  Likely still working the chip   
truck, he thought to himself, and releasing Ray's hand, he headed off in that direction. He left   
Ray opening all of the doors to the Riv and rolling the windows down as far as they would go. It   
was hot, Ben thought, but somehow, he hadn't noticed the climatic heat earlier. Clearly it paled   
beside the heat he and Ray had generated during their lovemaking. 

He still was feeling, well, not exactly fragile, but, rather, hyper aware, as thought all nerve-endings had suddenly doubled their capacity to transmit information to his brain. He was so   
wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't recognize Marco until he touched him on the shoulder.   
Ben started, and then, realizing who it was, smiled up at him in greeting. 

"Sorry, Marco. I didn't see you come up.  I guess I was a little preoccupied.  I...I...I'm looking   
for my wolf, you see." He cursed the red flush that crept up his cheeks. 

Marco grinned a conspiratorial "I've heard that line before," grin at him. He could certainly see   
why Ray had fallen like a ton of bricks for this guy. "Yeah, Ben, I can see you got a lot on your   
mind." He nodded almost imperceptibly at the bulge in the front of Ben's pants. Ben's blush   
deepened. "You been doing some praying, too?" Marco continued, nodding at the grass stains on   
Ben's knees. 

Ben was sure that spontaneous combustion took place at a lower temperature than that currently   
engulfing his entire face. And, now that he reflected on it, a small dose of spontaneous   
combustion might not be the worst thing to happen to him right now. And where was that damn   
wolf? 

Marco grinned at him again. "Hey, Ben, I'm happy for you two. I told you, you guys needed to   
spend some time alone. And," he paused to look significantly at Ben's groin, "you obviously   
need to keep right on doing that." He gave Ben's shoulder an affectionate squeeze saying, "Give   
Ray my love, and catch you both later, Ben." 

He paused after he turned to go. "The wolf?" Ben nodded, mutely. "He's over by that garbage   
can." 

Finding his voice, Ben managed to squeak out, "Thank you kindly."  Inwardly he groaned. They   
might as well have made out right on the bleachers, in full view of an admiring audience.  He   
just hoped that Ray would take it in his stride. He sighed and collected Dief from the   
overflowing garbage can. 

Ray had the engine running and the fan going on high when Ben with Dief in tow climbed into   
the car. He looked up from twiddling with the radio, and catching sight of Ben's face, asked   
what was wrong. 

"Nothing really, Ray. Except..." 

"Except what, Benny?" Ray looked concerned. 

"It really is nothing, Ray.  I just ran into Marco in the park, that's all.  He sends his love by the   
way, and says that he's very happy for us." 

"Ah." Ray said, the penny dropping. "So he guessed?" 

Ben nodded. "Well, Ray, given the condition of my pants, he could probably have made a very   
accurate guess as to exactly what took place." 

Ray started to laugh, mostly in response to the indignant tone in Benny's voice, and, after a   
second, Ben joined in, all the tension he was feeling evaporating in their loving laughter.   
    
*** 

Ray backed the Riv around and headed out of the parking lot in a purposeful manner.  He   
glanced sideways at Benny, who was fussing with his seatbelt, attempting to arrange the lap belt   
so that it didn't cause any more pressure on his groin than necessary, Ray supposed.  He still was   
marvelling that this perfect being had made love with him with such abandon. 

While Benny fiddled, Ray let his mind slide over the events of the morning so far. It was obvious   
to him that Benny had had male lovers before, and that knowledge pleased Ray. He would have   
hated to think that Victoria was the sum total of Benny's sexual experience, excepting, of course,   
for Benny's right hand, and of the two, he could guarantee that the right hand was likely to have   
been more fulfilling. He wondered if Benny would talk about his previous sexual experiences, or   
whether he would express some sort of noble principle about not kissing and telling.  Still, he   
thought, it couldn't hurt to try. Benny finally straightened up in his seat and looked over at Ray. 

"Ray, we..." 

"Benny, I..." 

Having both started to speak at the same time, they both stopped, hoping that the other would   
continue. Into the awkward little silence that followed, Ben said, "Please continue with what you   
were saying, Ray." 

"Naw, Benny. You go first.  What I was gonna say can wait." 

"You're sure, Ray?" Ben asked diffidently. Ray nodded.   
  

Now that he had had time to think about what he was going to say, Ben could feel his face   
starting to flush again.  Funny how he had no problem actually doing the things that otherwise,   
mere mention of, brought a rosy glow to his cheeks. Probably some strange psychological quirk   
best left undisturbed, he thought. 

Ray glanced over at him expectantly.  Ben, flushing a little more deeply, said, "Well Ray, I was   
just going to ask if we needed to... ah... well.... It's just that I wondered if you had... That we   
might need to make a stop. On the way back to your place." Ray looked a bit puzzled, he   
thought. He sighed. "That we might need to stop by a drugstore, on the way back to your place.   
Or not, if you don't want...." He trailed off embarrassedly, looking fixedly out the front   
windscreen, avoiding Ray's eyes. 

Ray grinned to himself, sometimes Benny could be such a lovable Boy Scout, and sometimes, he   
thought wickedly, he was so easy to tease. "No, Benny. I don't think we need to bother with a   
drugstore." 

The ambiguity of Ray's response made Ben slump a little in his seat.  He tried to gauge what   
Ray intended by that last statement.  Was it that he didn't want to do that... it, as it were.  Or did   
it mean that he had the necessary accoutrements for safer sex at home already.  Ray was not   
apparently going to amplify that statement, which meant that Ben had to ask for clarification. 

He risked a sideways glance at Ray, attempting to glean a hint from his countenance.  Certainly   
Ray's comments to him during sex indicated that... well... he would not be averse to... ah...doing   
it. With Ben. Ben felt his flushed face start to sweat as he recalled what Ray had said, and what   
his reaction to those suggestions had been. 

"Does that mean, Ray, that... that we are not going to be,... er... that ah..." God, how could he   
*do*it, if he couldn't even *say* it, he thought, especially with a man he loved, who he had had   
sex with already, though they hadn't done that. He had been able to say it last night, to his father,   
or rather to his father's ghost, so he wasn't sure if that counted. 

He was just about to take the bull by the horns and plunge back into what might well have been   
the most incoherent moment of his life, when he heard Ray make a soft little noise. He paused.   
There was a second noise, this one a little louder, and Ben was able to identify it quite clearly as   
a snort. He sagged back into his seat, and Ray, obviously unable to control himself any longer,   
burst out laughing. 

"I can't believe you did that intentionally, Ray. You might have had some sympathy for how   
difficult it was for me to ask about things like this." Ben decide that two could play at this game,   
and made sure that he sounded most indignant and hurt. 

Ray, who was continuing to chuckle, said,  not particularly remorsefully, but with ample   
affection in his voice, "I know I shouldn't have, but I couldn't resist, just like I couldn't resist   
you." 

He smiled at Ben, who was still thinking that a little remorse would only have been appropriate,   
and then continued. "To answer your original question, which, by the way, it's a good thing I   
read minds since it wasn't what you call explicit, no we don't need to stop, and yes, I do hope we   
will need to use the condoms and lube I have, as we speak, carefully stored in my the drawer of   
my nightstand. That is, provided you are amenable, because if you are, I fully hope to spend the   
rest of today fucking you and having you fuck me." 

Ben groaned inadvertently at Ray's words, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  Ray noted   
Ben's reaction and said dryly, "I take it that means yes?" 

Ben nodded, almost imperceptably, and looked at Ray, his eyes dark and huge, " Oh yes, Ray.   
But I'm a little, I guess, I'm not sure about, well, details.  I mean, I ... er... Victoria and I, we ...."   
He looked helplessly at Ray. 

 "You fucked." Ray supplied helpfully. 

Ben nodded. "Yes, but, I've never actually done... it, you know, with a man. And I never had it   
done to me, either. You see. So I wasn't sure what the..., I mean, who... looked after things." 

"You've never had sex with another man, Benny?" Ray asked, somewhat incredulously, since,   
unless he was very much mistaken, that blow job hadn't fallen fully formed out of the forehead   
of Zeus, or whoever. 

"Well, no, I mean, yes, er, no. I've had male lovers before. Victoria was the only woman I've   
been intimate with.  But you see, we didn't have ... ah... sexual intercourse together, my male   
lovers. I mean, my male lovers and I." There, he'd said it, or at least he had gotten beyond   
pronouns, and actually named the act. 

Ray nodded, and asked, "So what did you and these guys do then?" He was curious if Benny was   
able to name other sexual acts more easily than  sexual intercourse' or if his remarkable   
ineloquence was more generally applicable to all sexual terms. 

"I've only had two male lovers, Ray, so it's not like I have a large sample size. With one of   
them, well, we were both quite young, and he didn't have any more experience than I did, so we   
just engaged in mutual masturbation. We probably would have gotten around to other things if   
he had stayed in the north." 

Ben looked wistful. "It was the summer I was sixteen. He had come up to plant trees in the   
Yukon, near Carmacks, and it was the first time I fell in love. His name was Phil, he was a   
student at UBC, in engineering, and he was older than me." 

"So what happened?" Ray asked. "Did he leave you, or did you leave him?" 

"Neither." Ben said, the pain evident in his voice. "My grandmother found us kissing, and she   
pulled all sorts of strings to make sure that he never came back. I tried to find out what happened   
to him later on, when I was a little older, but by then he had graduated and gone off to Africa on   
some development project." 

"So what about number two? Was that the second time you fell in love?" 

"No, Ray. I wasn't in love with him. It was in Regina, I was in the RCMP training school and I   
met this man from Toronto. He was already a Mountie, and was back to do some special course   
the school was offering in dealing with organized crime, an up-grading, because that was when   
we were starting to see some organized crime activity coming into Canada from Southeast Asia.   
You know the sort of thing?" 

Ray nodded, and Ben continued. "Well, it should have been obvious from the start, but I didn't   
have a lot of experience, and what experience I had had, with Phil, well, it really set me up, I   
guess. You see, he looked a lot like Phil, same build, eye colour, and I guess, when he made   
advances to me, I thought... well it doesn't matter what I thought." Ben sighed. 

"You thought you could have what you and Phil had, right?" 

"Yes. I thought I was in love with him, because of Phil, and looking back on it, I was very   
sexually attracted to him, but I think that that was all tied up in how I imagined it should be."   
Ben paused, lost in thought. 

"And?" Prompted Ray. 

"And we were together for about four weeks, while he was in Regina. Then he went home, to   
Toronto, to a wife and two children." Ben looked ashamed. "I only found out about them after,   
when I tried to call him. That's when I realized that I couldn't have been in love with him, and   
that I had been deluding myself while I was with him. I think I should have figured it out earlier,   
but..." 

"But nothing Benny. Don't beat yourself up over that guy.  He picked you up, used you and   
threw you away. You were just a kid, you couldn't have known that he was a shit of the first   
water.  I bet that he was able to justify to himself that he wasn't really queer because all he did   
was let you suck his cock and jerk him off. I bet he never went down on you, did he?" 

Ben shook his head, mutely. Ray slammed his fist on the dashboard. "I can't believe these guys.   
They make me furious.  At least I had the common decency to be honest with myself when I   
finally figured it out and not to screw around on my wife while I was still married to her." 

"Ray, it's okay. This was all years ago. It doesn't matter." 

"No, Benny, no. It's not okay. It's crappy, and I think that you deserved better than some selfish   
son of a bitch who was just looking to get his rocks off with a naive young thing." Ray was   
outraged. He couldn't believe anyone would do that to Benny. 

It was monstrously unfair. He had had some fairly mediocre relationships in his life too, but on   
the whole, there hadn't been the sort of self-centred using that both this guy and dear Victoria   
seemed to have gone in for. "So there wasn't anyone between this guy and Victoria?" Benny   
shook his head.  "I guess you dated Larry Palm a lot, huh?" 

Benny looked surprised. " I've never met anyone named Larry Palm, Ray. How could I have   
gone out with him?" 

"You're joking, right?" It was Ray's turn to be surprised. He couldn't believe Ben didn't know   
what he was talking about.  He made a meaningful gesture with his right hand.  "You know,   
jerking yourself off, masturbating." 

"Oh, I see, Ray." Benny still looked less than sanguine about the explanation, and Ray was not   
entirely surprised when he continued, "Well, yes, Ray. I guess that I did. That is, that I managed   
to achieve sexual release through masturbation. But how is that related to Larry Palm?" 

"It's a euphemism for masturbation, Benny.  Like a guy says to you,  so who are you seeing   
these days,' and if all you're doing is jacking off, you say,  well, I'm seeing Larry Palm and his   
five brothers.'" He held up his hand, and steering with his knees, pointed to the relevant parts of   
his hand with his left index finger.   
    
"Ah, thank you Ray, I think I understand now."   
    
"So what do you call it, Benny? You don't just say that you're masturbating, do you?  So is it   
jerking off, or beating off, or jacking off, or having a wank?"  Ray grinned at Benny. 

Ben suspected that Ray was teasing him a little, and he contemplated sharing his father's   
euphemism, but even to his ears  pulling your pony' sounded like it was something Fraser Sr.   
would have invented himself. 

Instead, he decided he had a chance to tease Ray a little, and said "Well,  Ray.  There doesn't   
seem to be much wrong with masturbate. It is a perfectly useful word, and can be conjugated   
quite helpfully." 

Ray rolled his eyes and shook his head. Ben continued, "For instance, to masturbate, as in I   
masturbate, which I do, from time to time; you masturbate, which I presume to be the case since   
you know so many different phrases for it; he or she masturbates, which if Kinsey was any   
guide, would seem to hold true in many instances; my own favourite, we masturbate, and we   
certainly did, and I sincerely hope we do again; and they masturbate, which I am sure would fall   
into Kinsey's research statistics as well."   
  

Ben looked over at Ray and watched his reactions to Ben's conjugation, and at about the point   
where Ben said,  you masturbate', he started to smile, and when Ben said,  we masturbate', he   
started to grin. "Okay, I take your point Benny.  Masturbation it is.  It certainly does seem to   
cover the bases." 

"Technically not, Ray.  If I recall our conversation from last night, masturbation, even mutual   
masturbation of the sort we just engaged in, would not be equivalent to  scoring,' that is, sexual   
intercourse, and so would not, in fact, cover the bases." Ben was quite pleased with this. He had   
managed to say, sexual intercourse without even stammering. 

"Aw, Benny..." Ray groaned, and Ben laughed. 

Ray swung the Riv into the Vecchio driveway, and braked to a stop. Just before getting out of   
the car, Ray leaned over, and kissed Ben on the lips, their mouths coming together, their bodies   
leaning in towards each other. It was a passionate kiss, full of promise, and a desperate yearning   
for things to come. As they pulled away from each other, their lust for each other flickering in   
their eyes, Ray touched Ben's lips with his index finger. "Come on Benny. It's time I showed   
you where home plate is." 

*** 

     Almost shyly, Ray led Benny through the door of his bedroom. It wasn't as though   
Benny hadn't been in Ray's room before, it was that he hadn't been in Ray's room for the   
consummation of their longstanding mutual attraction before, and Ray felt eager anticipation   
coupled with just the tiniest hint of nervousness. Not that he had anything to be nervous about,   
he told himself. Coming in through the kitchen, Ray had snagged a pitcher of ice water out of the   
fridge, and Benny had grabbed two glasses, and they had headed straight upstairs. Dief had   
disappeared into the basement. 

The inside of the downstairs had been cooler than the heat-drenched mid-day July heat outside,   
but as they had climbed the stairs they could feel the temperature rising.  The curtains in Ray's   
room fluttered softly in the desultory breeze, aided somewhat by a slow turning ceiling fan.   
Setting the ice water down beside the bed, he walked over to the windows and adjusted the   
horizontal binds so that the amount of light coming into the room was halved, and the direct   
sunlight streaming through the windows was reduced to a series of horizontal beams slicing   
through the dusky calm. 

Turning back to look at Benny, Ray couldn't help wanting to pinch himself just to prove to   
himself that he wasn't actually dreaming, but on some deeper level, he didn't dare, just in case   
he was. Benny had been quiet on their passage through the silent house, and now he stood, still   
holding the glasses, one in each hand, just inside the door of the room.  Crossing over to stand   
beside him, Ray gently removed the glasses from Benny's hands and set them beside the pitcher.   
He then took Benny's hands in his own, and drew Benny into a close embrace. "You still okay   
with this, Benny?" he asked. 

Ben slid his arms down until his hands rested on Ray's buttocks.  He pressed their groins   
together, allowing Ray to realize just how okay he was, and ran his tongue around Ray's ear   
delicately. Ray arched his hips against Ben's, and they started to move against each other   
purposefully, their mouths meeting, their tongues matching the rhythm set up by their hips,   
sliding over one another with abandon. 

Coming up for air, they stared at each other wild-eyed, their passion palpable in the heat   
thickened air. Wordlessly Ray undressed, and then turned to Ben, who was standing watching   
him, drinking in the sight of his lover, marvelling at his lithe body, the fine bone structure with   
the taut muscle over laying it, the proud cock, not yet erect, but perfectly proportioned.  Ben still   
couldn't credit how he had come, not an hour earlier, to have knelt worshipfully between those   
lean thighs, how Ray's hand had tangled itself in his hair as he had licked and sucked that   
flawless cock. 

"So beautiful,"Ben murmured, "you're so beautiful, Ray." He ran his hands over Ray's   
shoulders, revelling in the satiny feel of Ray's skin, the feel of the muscle just below the skin. 

"Benny, don't you think that you're a little behind schedule here?" Ray asked, tugging Benny's   
shirt out of his the waistband of his jeans.  He seemed to spend most of his time unwrapping   
Benny, and sometimes he wished that Benny wasn't such a tucked in kinda guy.  Though,   
certainly there seemed to be an untucked side to Benny this morning and Ray was sure he was   
going to enjoy exploring it further. 

Ben grinned at Ray's eager attempt to get him to disrobe.  Time for a little more teasing he   
thought.  He gently pushed Ray down until Ray was seated on the side of the bed, his mouth   
stopping Ray's muttered protestations.  Never taking his eyes from Ray's, huge and green in the   
darkened room, Ben started to finish what Ray had begun.  He pulled the rest of his T-shirt out of   
his jeans, and slowly pushed it up on his chest, his hands caressing himself. Ray's eyes widened   
as Ben played with his nipples, slowly circling the flattened nubs, stroking them into hardened   
points. Ray's whimper of lust and frustration seemed to find its way directly to Ben's groin, and   
he could feel his cock respond to Ray's desire. 

Deftly, Ben pulled the T-shirt the rest of the way off, and tossed it on the floor.  His hands went   
to his already much too tight jeans, and he undid, very slowly, the buttons of his fly, watching   
Ray as he did so.  He'd had no idea that just taking his clothes off could be so erotic, and   
certainly, Ray seemed to think so as well, if his reactions were anything to go by.  Ben pushed   
his jeans down over his hips, leaving his boxer shorts temporarily in place. His cock, released   
from the stern confines of the jeans into the more roomy boxers swung a little out from his belly,   
making an appreciable bulge in the crisp white shorts. 

Bending to remove his jeans, Benny straightened up just in time for Ray to successfully grasp   
Ben's buttocks and pull him into the circle of Ray's arms. Ray slipped his clever hands up the   
open legs of the shorts and caressed the cheeks of Ben's ass kneading the firm flesh, running his   
nails gently over the pale skin, his fingertips sliding in and out of the cleft between the buttocks.   
Ben moaned and pressed his ass back against Ray's hands, his teasing game forgotten; contact   
with Ray's hands, Ray's mouth, Ray's cock the only thing that mattered at the moment. Ray was   
breathing heavily through slightly parted lips and Ben could feel the warm breath on his groin,   
and he watched transfixed as Ray bent his head and sucked the head of Ben's cock through the   
thin fabric of the shorts. He was sure he was going to come right then and there, losing control   
and toppling forward onto Ray and into oblivion, but Ray had other plans in mind.  He quickly   
slid Ben's shorts off, and pulled Ben toward him. His open mouth accommodated Ben's cock   
and his deft fingers continued to tease Ben's buttocks, moving between them and then   
withdrawing, circling and stroking. 

Ben's sense of direction fled as Ray ran his tongue just inside his foreskin, teasing the sensitive   
tip, darting the point of his tongue into the slit in the glans. Ben's hands came down and rested   
lightly on either side of Ray's head, steadying it, and his hips started to thrust in a purposeful   
rhythm. Ray let Ben fuck his cock down Ray's throat, and slid off the bed to rest on his knees in   
front of Ben.  Ben looked down, watching as his cock moved in and out of Ray's mouth; aroused   
by this erotic tableau and pushed almost to the edge by Ray's oral and manual ministrations,   
Ben's pelvic movements increased in speed, the ache in his balls spreading down the insides of   
his thighs, upward through the muscles of his belly. 

Ray's deliberate pleasuring of his body astounded Ben, and made him feel cherished, a prize Ray   
was claiming as his own, something worthy of this sort of attention.  Ray's right hand slipped   
between Ben's legs, and fondled his already tight balls, stroking and rolling them between   
careful fingers. The fingers of Ray's other hand ran up and down between the cheeks of Ben's   
ass, occasionally finding their way to the delicate sensitive skin around Ben's anus. Once or   
twice, the index finger strayed into the puckered opening, just teasingly penetrating the very   
outer reaches of that erogenous area. 

Ben had to admit to the only part of his brain that seemed to function during these encounters, a   
sort of primitive erotically focussed area, that Ray's teasing finger was driving him wild with   
desire, a desire to be fucked, to be penetrated, to be wholly Ray's possession.  The thought that   
he could be so incredibly wanton, sluttish, and perverse only seemed to increase the intensity of   
his desire. He shifted his legs further apart to provide Ray with unimpeded access, to make   
himself vulnerable and exposed. He whimpered as Ray's finger returned to probe his anus   
gently, surely, but instead of drifting off as it had before, the finger remained, pushing gently   
into Ben's body, slipping back a little, and pushing forward again. 

Ben could feel himself starting to open to this penetration, his muscles relaxing, his skin alive   
with sensation.  He could feel Ray's teeth scrape provocatively along the underside of his cock,   
his thumb pressing along Ben's perineal area, every nerve ending seeming to multiply in   
intensity the information it received from Ben's cock, Ben's anus, and these multiplications fed   
back in turn making the areas penetrated and penetrating more sensitive still. Ben grasped at   
Ray's head, his universe chaotic and unsubstantial, his body seemingly unable to maintain its   
integrity as the heat of his orgasm spread outward. 

Ray carefully withdrew his finger from Benny's body, and grasping Benny's hips, he rocked   
back on his heels, reluctantly allowing Benny's softening cock to slip out of his mouth.  He   
loved the way that Benny's cock had filled his mouth, pushed into his throat, spilling Benny's   
semen down Ray's throat. Ray had delighted in the way in which Benny had responded: open,   
free, and wilful in his own desires. Ray could feel the heat in his own groin when he had   
penetrated Benny's ass, his cock aching to slide into that smooth tight passage, aching to make   
Benny cry out in pleasure at his violation. 

Ben wasn't sure how he had remained standing during his climax, and he wasn't entirely sure he   
would be able to summon enough coordinated voluntary muscle action to make it to the bed. Ray   
was sitting back on his heels, looking up at Ben, green eyes wide and dark with lust, his cock,   
erect and perfect, pushing out of the short dark curls on Ray's groin. Here indeed was the faun in   
rut Ben had imagined last night, other worldly, and yet of this world. 

Ray slowly eased himself back on the bed, and pulled Ben close. Almost without his volition,   
Ben's body collapsed forward, pressing Ray between him and the bed, feeling Ray's erection   
pushing up against his groin, tasting Ray's lips on his, the taste of his own cum on them   
intoxicating and seductive. 

"So you like, Benny?" Ray asked, arching his eyebrows at Benny. 

"Like doesn't even come close to describing it, Ray. I've never felt anything like it before. I   
hope I didn't hurt your head, I don't seem to recall holding it that tightly when you started to   
suck me." 

Ray chuckled, "It's a well known physiological reaction to a first rate blow-job, Benny. Nothing   
to be ashamed of there. Just make sure you don't pull too hard. I haven't got much hair to lose,   
ya know." 

Ben ruffled his hand through Ray's receding hair, marvelling at how soft it was under his   
fingers. "I'll be sure to remember that for the next time Ray," he said jokingly grabbing a small   
handful and playfully tugging at it. 

"Ow, Benny, no fair. I meant it when I said I don't have any to spare." 

Ray rolled them over on the bed, so that Benny was trapped under him. Benny looked sweet and   
vulnerable and at the same time erotically charged, lying beneath him on the bed, Ray thought as   
he started to move his hips back and forth, pushing Benny's legs apart and thrusting against his   
pelvis, his cock sliding over Ben's.  Ray leaned forward and kissed Benny on the mouth, his   
tongue insistent, probing, pushing its way into Benny's mouth. 

Ben loved the feeling of Ray covering him. The sensation of being physically dominated by Ray   
was highly arousing, and Ben had groaned in pleasure as Ray had parted his legs and pushed in   
between them. Ray's cock forced its way between their groins, Ray's arousal evident in the   
hardness of his cock, and the slickness of the pre-cum leaking from the tip. Ben drew his knees   
up, trying to increase the contact between Ray's cock and his own, trying to direct Ray's cock to   
push up against his anus. 

Ray nibbled along Ben's neck, his tongue swiping damply along the vein standing out on Ben's   
neck, and whispered, "I'm going to fuck you, Benny. I'm going to fuck your perfect ass." He slid   
down and with his next thrust, pressed his cock head against Ben's asshole. 

Ben felt his own cock throb in response to Ray's words, and his body felt as though it were on   
fire, his organs and skin liquefying in the heat of his desire. His eyes were focussed somewhere   
in the middle-distance, the pupils huge in the dim light, and he hoarsely whispered, "Please, Ray.   
Please take me now." 

But instead of continuing to thrust, Ray pushed himself up on his arms, and moved away from   
Ben's body.  Ben's eyes flew open, and he made an incoherent moan of distress as the pressure   
against his anus disappeared.  Ray's cock, sweat-slick and turgid, moved away from Ben's groin,   
and swung out, as if cantilevered by the weight of Ray's balls heavy in the delicate tissue paper   
softness of their sac. 

Ray couldn't be stopping now, Ben's heart despaired, he couldn't promise and then not go   
through with it. His anguish must have registered in his eyes, because Ray quickly kissed Ben's   
lips, and smiled reassuringly, saying, "Don't worry Benny, I plan on having my wicked way with   
you. I just need to make sure we do it right." 

Ben's blood was pumping through his body, his veins and arteries thrumming the carnal message   
 fuckmefuckmefuckme' as Ray reached into the night table and withdrew a tube of lube and a   
strip of three condoms, which he tossed next to Ben on the bed. Ray looked down at Benny,   
laying back on the bed, his legs spread, his knees drawn up and could barely contain himself. He   
thought he could probably come just looking at Benny's abject sexuality, Benny's abject desire,   
splayed out for his perusal, for his usage. 

"Turn over, Benny." His voice, hoarse from desire, sounded rougher than he had intended.   
Benny obediently rolled over onto his stomach, moaning. Ray almost whimpered at the   
disappearance of Benny's cock, already starting to harden again, but consoled himself at the   
sight of Benny's perfect buttocks alluringly pale in the darkened room. 

"Spread your legs, Benny." Benny moved his legs apart, revealing just the shadow of his balls at   
the point where his body met the bed, the separation between the buttocks made more distinct,   
more breachable.  Ray knelt between Benny's spread legs, and bending his back and neck,   
nibbled the almost porcelain perfection of Benny's ass cheeks. Benny groaned, and writhed   
under Ray's eager nips. Starting at the base of Benny's spine, Ray trailed his tongue along the   
cleft between the two cheeks, the tiny circular licking motions caressing and tantalizing.  Benny   
pushed back against Ray's tongue, his legs spreading themselves wider. 

"Oh, Ray. Please, please...." Benny sighed breathlessly. 

"Please what, Benny?" Ray said, pausing briefly in his oral labours. 

"Please... your tongue... Ray." 

"You want me to lick you some more, Benny? Is that it?" Benny writhed on the bed, his ass   
cheeks deliciously spread, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his lower back. Ray wanted to   
make sure Benny was just as ready to be fucked as Ray was ready to fuck him. He decided to up   
the ante a little, given Benny's propensity for having Ray talk smut. "You want me to lick your   
lovely little ass? To push my tongue into you? To suck and nibble? To make you squirm Benny?   
Is that it?" His hot breath was millimetres away from Benny's skin and he blew provocatively   
down the cleft of Benny's ass. 

His words and actions certainly had an effect on Benny.  Benny's moan was an incoherent   
expression of lust, and desire, and yearning, and found its bodily equivalent in the way in which   
Benny drew his knees up under him, legs still spread wide, and offered himself to Ray. Ray   
swallowed hard, unbelievably turned on, his cock a burning brand, his brain clouded with his   
obsession for Benny's body. Gently steadying himself by placing his hands on Benny's now   
raised hips, he resumed his oral attentions.  Running his tongue between Benny's buttocks, he   
swirled the tip over Benny's anus causing Benny's hips involuntarily to buck. 

Ray proceeded to lick back and forth, over and around, ever-so-often sliding the tip of his tongue   
into the tight opening. Ben's hips pushed his anus back against Ray's mouth, desperate to   
increase the amount of flesh in contact with Ray's agile tongue, at the same time desperate to   
feel something more substantial penetrate him. He found it almost impossible to fathom that Ray   
was currently bathing this most private part with his tongue and that he, Ben, was on his knees,   
begging, however incoherently, for Ray to do that and more. 

When Ray withdrew his tongue, Ben felt momentarily bereft, anxious for the wondrous   
sensations to continue, yet eagerly anticipating what might come next. Ray, after a moment,   
replaced his tongue with a well lubed finger, and gently pushed it into Ben's receptive body.   
Ben whimpered as Ray slid the finger in and out, rotating it slowly, the tip just grazing Ben's   
prostate. Ben pushed back against Ray's finger, wanting more, wanting to be filled, wanting to   
be fucked. 

Ray ran his finger tip around the ring of muscle, opening Ben up, stretching him, driving him   
wild with desire. Then Ray stroked a second finger into Ben, pushing in and out, twisting   
carefully, saying, "You like my fingers in you, Benny?  You like me finger fucking you? If you   
like this, wait until I fuck you with my cock." 

Ben's brain felt like it had short-circuited, only the automatic responses were preserved, any   
higher brain function had evaporated at about the same time as Ray had opened his mouth. Ben   
didn't understand why just listening to Ray's salacious patter could make him hard as a rock and   
aching for release, but right at the moment, he didn't give a good God damn. His cock was   
throbbing and he could feel every movement of Ray's fingers transmitted to his sensitive organ. 

Ray slowly withdrew his fingers from Ben's anus, and Ben gasped a little as more lube was   
pushed into his ass. Then, the blunt head of Ray's condom sheathed cock slid along Ben's   
sensitive perineum and pushed against the tender skin of Ben's anus. Ben rocked back against   
Ray's cock, the first part of the glans already lodged in his ass and felt Ray's hands come to rest   
on his hips, Ray's torso resting lightly along his back. Ray's own hips started to push his lube   
slick cock slowly into Ben, withdrawing slightly and then rocking forward again. 

Ben felt a delicious pressure in his ass, a fullness he had only anticipated but had never   
experienced before now.  He longed for Ray to push all the way in, to become fully part of him,   
to inhabit him. The motion of Ray's hips increased and Ben found himself moving impatiently   
against Ray's cock. Longing over-coming Ben's inhibitions, he whispered to Ray, "Please, Ray.   
Please, I need you inside of me." 

Ray couldn't believe the smoothness and tightness of Benny's rectum, and as his cock stopped   
and slid alternatively into the warmth of Benny's body, the pressure around his cock pushed him   
closer to the edge. Hearing Benny's plea, Ray started to move his cock in and out of Benny's   
luscious hole, fucking him gently at first, and then harder as Benny's desire matched Ray's   
fervour until they were moving as one, plunging against each other, sweat-slick, bathed in their   
mutual passion. 

Ray slid one hand down Benny's hip towards his groin, seeking and finding Benny's hard cock,   
slippery with pre-cum and sweat. He wrapped his hand around it and Benny cried out   
unintelligibly, the only recognizable word was Ray's name. Ray could feel Benny's rectal   
muscles start to spasm, their contractions massaging his cock as he fucked it in and out of his   
lover's body. 

Ray's cock head slid back and forth over what Ben could only assume was his prostate gland,   
and the sensations were unlike anything Ben had ever felt. Ray's hand had found Ben's cock and   
when he had wrapped it around Ben's cock, Ben could feel the room start to disappear.  The only   
sounds he heard were Ray's breathing and the sound of his blood pushing through his veins, the   
only sensations he felt were the exquisite torment of Ray's cock moving in and out of his anus   
and the hand gripping his cock. The smell of their lovemaking, lust, and pheromones, and sweat   
and semen filled his brain, the synapses burning like cordite down his nerves until they ignited   
his orgasm. Ben could feel his ass gripping Ray's cock, bearing down on it, fighting to still the   
short sharp thrusts that carried Ray to his climax, as his cock shot semen all over his lover's   
hand. 

Ray gave a final thrust and came deep inside Benny's rectum. Collapsing forward, spent sexually   
and physically, covering Benny's body with his own, Ray slid his cock gently out of Benny's   
anus, and deftly removed the condom. As they lay gasping, curled around one another, the bed in   
disarray, the humid air barely moving over their sweat-soaked bodies, Ray whispered in Benny's   
ear. "I love you Benny," and kissed him tenderly on the lips. 

"I love you too, Ray." Ben murmured sleepily in return, contentedly snuggling down into the   
curve of his lover's body. "  Night, Ray...Sleepy." 

" Night, Benny." Benny's deep regular breathing indicated that he was already asleep. Ray   
smiled, self-satisfied, and... well...just plain satisfied. He could feel the heaviness in his bones   
that presaged sleep, and even though it was still early afternoon, he peacefully dozed off, his   
lover nestled in his arms. 

***   
    
When Ben awoke he noticed that the angle of the sunlight coming through the blinds had shifted,   
and that most of the afternoon had slipped by while they had slept. Ray was still asleep beside   
him, his regular breathing comforting, his arm casually encircling Ben's waist. Ben liked the   
sensation of waking in Ray's arms, feeling connected and loved. He didn't want to wake Ray yet   
and so he slid a little closer to his lover, and tried to doze a bit. His mind skimmed over the   
events of the past hours, the events which had led them to be lying here, firmly ensconced in   
Ray's bed, entangled in each other's arms, the evidence of their desire as palpable as the heat in   
the still room. 

Ben's previous experiences hadn't prepared him much for the joyous adventurous couplings he   
had engaged in with Ray.  Their lovemaking had been accompanied by the awakening of a   
sensual part of Ben that he never had dreamed of, and that, he was astounded to discover,   
pervaded all of his senses, all parts of his being. Ray's rough tenderness had unlocked aspects of   
Ben's soul he didn't know he possessed. 

Or perhaps, it hadn't just been Ray. Perhaps he was also ready to move beyond his normal   
reserve, and his love for Ray had merely (as if anything so integral to his soul could be termed   
 mere') been the catalyst.  Whatever it was, the process had been a transformation, an exaltation,   
and taking Ray into his body, being penetrated by Ray, had been an important final step in this   
process. He felt...completed, and perhaps for the first time since he could remember, entirely   
alive, wholly in his body, in his soul. 

He remembered the dog-eared copy of EM Forster's *Maurice* Phil had given him before he   
left. In it he had puzzled out exactly what the (he thought anyway) overly-coy Edwardian had   
meant by  sharing', desperately frustrated that Forster hadn't seen fit to be more explicit about   
what Alec and Maurice had done. Now, though, he reflected that  sharing' was perhaps the best   
possible word to describe what had happened between himself and Ray. They had shared a vital   
part of themselves and in so doing had become more than they were before, or at least he hoped   
that was how Ray felt, since it certainly was how he felt. 

Ben wondered idly about Ray's previous male lovers. Had Ray been in love with them, or had   
they just had sex and not worried  about emotional entanglements? Ray's practiced use of Ben's   
body, like his membership in the greater community of gay men, had been a relief to Ben. And   
while it didn't suggest that the road ahead would necessarily be an easy one, it did remove some   
of Ben's more substantial concerns about how Ray might cope with having a male lover. 

Ben's stomach growled, and he really needed to pee.  As he steeled himself to try to slide out of   
Ray's embrace, Ray stirred and rubbed up against Ben's back, tangling his legs with Ben's. 

"Ray?" Ben whispered, "Are you awake?" 

"Hmmm?" Ray mumbled sleepily. 

"Ray, I have to get up. Just let me..." He tried to slip his legs out from under Ray's, but Ray was   
still partially comatose and not particularly helpful. 

"Hmmmrfff, Benny" Ray shifted again, and Ben was able to free his legs. Now all he needed to   
do was just remove Ray's arm from around his waist and... Ray moved quite suddenly, and   
muttered, "Benny, if you're going to fidget, just get up." 

"I'm sorry, Ray. I was trying to get up, but as you can see, I did need to move your arm in order   
for me to be able to." 

"Hmmrrff," was all Ray had to say, and it was only after he heard Ray's breathing pattern   
resume its regular rhythm that Ben realized Ray hadn't woken up at all. He sat up slowly, so as   
not to jiggle the bed too much, and after standing up carefully, he padded naked across the hall to   
the bathroom. 

Gratefully relieving the pressure on his bladder, Ben watched absently as the stream of urine   
swirled into the water of the toilet bowl, his thoughts a thousand miles away, gathering wool.   
Finished peeing, he turned to wash his hands, and caught sight of himself in the mirror over the   
vanity. He peered at his face in the mirror, trying to discern if his transformative experience had   
had any outward expression. He'd heard some rubbish about how a person's sexual experience   
can be read in their face, and looking closely, he was somewhat relieved to see that there was   
nothing specifically that screamed,  my lover had his cock up my ass and I loved it.' 

On the other hand, he had to admit, his lips inadvertently quirking up into a grin at the image that   
had just passed through his mind, he did look ...well... well-fucked, and he had, in addition to the   
purpling hickey from the night before, a small collection of bruises on his neck and shoulders,   
evidence of the intensity of his passion and Ray's.  He slid his finger experimentally over them;   
they weren't painful, just colourful, proud little souvenirs. He quirked an eyebrow at himself in   
the mirror, he'd been manhandled, he thought, and that was just the way he liked it. He rinsed his   
hands in the basin, and humming Beethoven's Ode to Joy under his breath, he crossed back into   
the bedroom. 

*** 

Ray was still asleep, curled up, the sheet draped over part of his legs, his buttocks caught in the   
late afternoon rays of sunlight.  So beautiful, Ben thought, so beautiful, and he loves me. He   
gently traced the pattern of hair on Ray's temple, and then moved away from the bed, reluctant   
to disturb Ray's sleep. Pouring himself a drink of water, he thirstily gulped it down, and quickly   
poured himself a second glass. 

Wandering around the room aimlessly, he paused in front of Ray's dresser, his eyes running   
randomly over the accumulated clutter, not really focussing on anything in particular, until it   
caught sight of a photo. It was an ordinary snap-shot,  stuck between the edge of the dresser and   
the mirror, of Ben and Dief, taken one day the previous winter, the February sky behind them,   
cruelly cold.  Ben remembered the day. He and Ray had taken Dief to a park near Ben's   
apartment, and Ray had taken some photos. Ben had enjoyed the outing, the air, fresh and cold;   
he had been happy to be in the company of the man he was in love with, even if he daren't tell   
him so. Afterwards they had come back to Ben's apartment and thawed Ray out, drinking tea   
and sitting in the weak February sunshine. 

Ben remembered how he had longed to put his arms around Ray, how he had wanted once again   
to make the suggestion he had made in the meat locker, that the best way of warming a body up   
was skin to skin contact, but he had been afraid of being rebuffed. He sighed, if he had acted on   
his instincts, they might have been celebrating half a year as lovers instead of just getting down   
to business now. Still, no use worrying about might-have-beens, they were together now; that   
was all that mattered. 

He picked the photo up and studied the man looking out at him. He looked...well...dour, as his   
grandmother might say.  Sad was too strong a word, perhaps, it implied an emotional response;   
dour, on the other hand, suggested an inflexibility, a severity that the man in the photo projected.   
Ben was dumbfounded by this revelation. Here he was, supposedly looking out at the man he   
loved, the person who meant the most to him, and the best he was able to manage was dour. No   
wonder Ray hadn't made any attempt to make a pass at him. He'd had no idea that he had been   
so forbidding. He had been so scared of showing his emotions, he had all but closed down   
completely. 

Ben glanced up at his reflection in the mirror, and while the man in the mirror, and the man in   
the photo were the same man physically, Ben was astounded by the differences able to be read   
on their respective faces. Ray had complained about how tucked in and wrapped up Ben   
appeared, and Ben realized that the man in the photo certainly had been tucking his feelings in,   
and wrapping up his emotions. He sighed again. He leaned over to tuck the photo back into the   
mirror frame, and started up when Ray's voice broke into the humid silence of the room. "A very   
nice view, Benny. Just what I needed to see when I woke up." Ben blushed, and looked at Ray in   
the mirror. Ray was sitting cross legged on the bed, his hair in disarray, his eyes roguish,   
grinning at Ben in the mirror. " Ya know, that colour really suits you, Benny." 

Ben almost asked  what colour', but stopped himself when he realized that Ray was teasing him.   
Smiling at Ray, he blushed even more deeply instead and walked over to the bed. Ray leaned   
back, propped his shoulders against the headboard and carelessly draped the sheet over part of   
his nakedness, looking, Ben thought to himself, perfectly edible.  Ray slid over, making room for   
Ben beside him on the disaster area formerly known as Ray's bed. Ben sat on the edge of the   
mattress, and looked at his lover quizzically. Ray's seductive smile was heading rapidly towards   
a wicked grin, and on the whole, Ben thought, he looked like more trouble than a wilderness of   
monkeys. 

Ray, noticing Benny's puzzlement reached over to take the forgotten photo from Ben's hands.   
"Parks," he said. Benny's look of confusion deepened and Ray explained,"I just caught sight of   
the picture of you and Dief in the park and I remembered how cold it was, and then I thought   
about our adventure in the park this morning. It's a good thing it wasn't February or something   
vital might have frozen off, and I wouldn't have appreciated that at all. I like your equipment just   
were it is." 

He chuckled and Ben, sliding into bed beside Ray, smiled at the image of them attempting to   
make love next to the wind-whipped shores of Lake Michigan in sub-zero weather. Not alluring,   
but if he was with Ray... 

"Well, it is possible to safely make love in those conditions Ray, but frost bite is always a risk." 

" I bet. I still can't believe that we did that, you know." Ray shook his head. "What a crazy risk.   
Can you imagine if one of the uniforms had come by? Welsh would have had my butt if we had   
ended up at the precinct for indecent acts. We should just have gone off to a motel." 

"I don't know, Ray. I think that it had a certain je ne sais quoi." 

"You're right, it certainly did. And I wouldn't trade a minute of it for the world." Ray smiled   
into Benny's eyes as they lay side by side in the heat still room before drawing him into a deep   
kiss. After their lips had separated, he continued, "On the other hand, I think that, on the whole,   
there is something to be said for the comforts of home, not all of which are limited to the   
bedroom, by the way." 

"What comforts exactly would you be thinking of, Ray?" Ben asked, his voice making it clear   
that he was not averse to discovering what some of these comforts might be. He could already   
feel the heat from Ray's lips coursing through his body. 

"Oh, I just thought that since you and I got dirty together so well, we might also get clean   
together. And since it is summer time, we really should be conserving water, so showering   
together would be the ecological, not to mention the erotic, thing to do." 

Ben's cheeks flushed as he thought of what getting clean together might entail, and given the   
gleam in Ray's eyes, it was obvious that they were on the same wave-length. But as he thought   
back to last night's solo shower activities, he blushed even more deeply. He hoped that his   
father's ghost would be unlikely to appear this time.   
*** 

Their progress to the bathroom was impeded by the fact that they were not able to keep their   
hands, or their lips, off of each other.  They ended up, just inside the doorway, in each other's   
arms, their mouths melding and their groins grinding together. Ben's hands slid downward,   
cupping Ray's buttocks in his palms, feeling the firmness of Ray's flesh, pressing Ray into his   
growing need, reveling in Ray's response. Ray backed Ben against the counter and Ben arched   
forward against Ray's body, his buttocks caught against the edge of the vanity, his torso bending   
backwards under the intensity of Ray's passionate onslaught, his body on fire. He could feel   
Ray's burgeoning erection pressing against his own, their cocks sliding slick with pre-cum and   
sweat over each other in an erotic unity of purpose. If they didn't stop soon, they were not even   
going to make it to the shower, Ben thought wryly. 

As if reading his mind, Ray pulled his mouth from Ben's as they continued to move against each   
other.  Breathing hard, he groaned, "God, Benny, you turn me on." His hot breath tickling the   
rim of Ben's ear, he continued, "I want you to fuck me. Right here. Right now." 

Ben's erection jumped at the raw need in Ray's voice and the palpable desire in the warm room.   
He couldn't think of a single reason why he shouldn't act on Ray's urgent request, and he   
couldn't think of a single reason why he wouldn't want to. All he could think of was wanting to   
be joined with Ray, to be inside of him. 

His hands massaging Ray's buttocks, Ben's knee went between Ray's legs and forced them   
apart. Ray moaned as Ben slid his fingers into the crack of Ray's ass, pulled the cheeks apart and   
probed Ray's anus deftly. Ray's body shivered as Ben slipped the tip of his index finger into the   
yielding little hole and he pushed his hips hard against Ben's groin, Ben's tongue slipping in and   
out of Ray's mouth in time to his anal explorations. 

"Oh, Benny, yes." Ray managed to whisper. "Please, fuck me." 

"Oh, I will, Ray. Don't you worry." Ben's finger continued to investigate Ray's anus, sliding in   
and out of the hot silky smoothness. So smooth, he marvelled, so smooth and so tight. He felt   
overwhelmed at the thought of pushing his cock into that part of Ray, awed at the trust Ray had   
in him. "Ray, we need, well, we need..." 

"Behind you, in the drawer." Ray interrupted, and catching Ben's startled look, warned, "Just   
don't ask, Benny." 

"Understood." Ben withdrew his finger and gently pushed Ray back so that he could slide out   
from between him and the counter while Ray pulled open the drawer with fingers made urgent   
by desire. Ben, unable to risk losing contact with Ray's sweet skin for an instant, moved behind   
him. Encircling Ray with his arms, deft fingers finding the already erect nubs of Ray's nipples,   
Ben thrust up against Ray's buttocks, his cock sliding along the cleft between them. Ray moaned   
and pushed backwards against Ben's cock. 

Finally locating the condoms and lube, Ray looked up and caught sight of himself in Benny's   
embrace in the mirror, the late afternoon light spilling into the shadowy room from the doorway   
behind them, catching the edges of Benny's shoulders, gilding his sweat dampened hair,   
outlining him against the dusky backdrop of the bathroom. Just at that moment Benny looked up   
and their eyes met. A charge went through Ray's body, the desire in Benny's eyes matched by   
the burning in his own linked through their mirrored reflections. 

Wordlessly he placed the condom in Benny's hand and reluctant to take his eyes from the erotic   
tableau reflected in the mirror, he turned to face his lover. 

Ben fumbled with tearing open the packaging around the condom. He hated to admit it, but he   
had never put a condom on himself (or anyone else for that matter) and while he knew the basics   
of what safer sex entailed, he wasn't a hundred per cent sure of the mechanics.  Catching sight of   
the two of them in the mirror had shaken him: he hadn't been prepared for the pure sexual   
intensity of the image, nor had he been prepared for his own desire to watch himself and Ray   
making love; however, if the scorching looks that had passed between himself and Ray in the   
mirror were any indication, Ray would not be adverse to being bent over the counter and soundly   
fucked. 

In the meantime, Ray, clearly identifying the problem, grinned at him and said, "Condoms 101:   
now pay close attention to the teacher, Benny" as he applied a dab of lube to the end of Ben's   
already slippery cock. Swirling his thumb over the head of Ben's cock to spread the lube around,   
Ray deftly rolled the condom in place, carefully making sure that the air was out of its tip.   
Taking Ben's hand, Ray squeezed lube into his palm and instructed him to spread it on the   
outside of his condom sheathed cock. While the movement of his lube-slick hands on his cock   
with an appreciative audience was highly stimulating, Ben's need to make Ray his overrode his   
latent exhibitionism. He turned Ray to face the mirror and saw in Ray's face a mirror of his own   
desires. 

Ray, his voice husky with need, begged: "Tell me what you are going to do to me, Benny." 

Ben swallowed hard, part of him wanting to say those forbidden words, to share his darkest   
desires with Ray, and part of him afraid that he wouldn't be able to overcome his reticence. Ray   
pushed his ass back against Ben's lube-slick cock and whispered, "Tell me, Benny, tell me what   
you want to do. Do you want to fuck me, Benny? Put your cock up my ass?" 

Ben groaned and grasping Ray's hips, thrust in time to Ray's movement, his cock sliding along   
Ray's ass, his eyes dark and wide, watching as the two of them moved together in the mirror.   
Ray's hands strayed up to his own nipples and he started teasing them, his eyes never leaving   
Ben's, his cock hard and glistening, reflected back to them in the dim light of the mirror. Ray's   
left hand moved down to grasp his own cock, and as he slowly circled the tip with his index   
finger, the sensuous abandon with which he touched himself drew Ben out of his silence. 

Hesitantly, in only a hoarse whisper at first, he said, "I want to make love to you, Ray. I want   
to... I need to, Ray." He continued to thrust against Ray's ass, his cock already aching with need,   
his mind leaping ahead, seeing Ray splayed out on the counter, his face suffused with desire, Ben   
behind him, pumping his cock into Ray's ass. 

"How are you going to do it, Benny? How are you going to fuck me?" Ray grasped his cock   
firmly and stroked it in time to Ben's pelvic thrusts, his head lolling back on Ben's shoulder. "I   
want details." He licked his lips salaciously. Ben quivered with anticipation. 

"I'm... I'm going to ... bend you over the counter, Ray, and then I'm going to... to" Ben paused   
to consider his wording here. He didn't really think that  engage in anal intercourse' was quite   
the way he wanted to it, but he wasn't sure he could get the other words out. 

Here goes, he thought, and continued on resolutely. "Then I'm going to bugger you, Ray." He   
took a deep breath, and elaborated, "I'm going to... to fuck my cock up your ass, Ray, until you   
come." 

Ray groaned and let his head fall forwards, his hands abandoning his self-pleasuring and coming   
to grasp the edge of the counter. Benny's innocent awkwardness was intensely erotic for Ray.   
Forcing him to describe the sexual act about to take place had left Ray shaken by its power to   
move him. All he wanted now was for Benny to push into his body, to penetrate him, to violate   
his corporeal isolation, to effect a sweet violation, a union of souls. "Show me," he whispered.   
"Make me yours, Benny." 

Ben pressed up against Ray's back, bending him forward until his upper body lay along the   
counter, his right hand grasping the end edge of the counter. Straightening up, Ben pushed Ray's   
feet apart with his own. Holding the lube bottle at the base of Ray's spine he squeezed a   
generous amount between Ray's buttocks and used his fingers to spread the slick cool gel down   
to Ray's anus. Carefully inserting his fingers into Ray's ass he worked lube into Ray's tight hole   
while his other hand moved below to gently fondle Ray's balls. Ray's ass pressed backwards   
onto his fingers and Ben could hear Ray's soft moans of pleasure as his fingers grazed Ray's   
prostate, could see the luminous green eyes dark with desire reflected back to him in the mirror. 

He was causing this response in Ray, Ben thought, in awe of the sheer intensity of it. Slowly he   
withdrew his fingers and, grasping his cock, he directed the tip into the tight opening to Ray's   
body. Holding on to Ray's hips to steady himself, he rocked forward, the head of his cock sliding   
easily past Ray's sphincter muscles. He wasn't prepared for the heat of Ray's rectum, or the   
enveloping tension surrounding his more than eager cock, the even and intense pressure bearing   
down on the sensitive head from all sides as it pushed through the ring of muscle. Withdrawing   
slightly, Ben pushed forward again into Ray's velvety sheath, the pressure and warmth   
enveloping his cock like second skin. 

Ray's moans intensified as the head of Benny's cock bumped across his prostate and his rectum   
involuntarily tightened around the source of his pleasure. Ray's knuckles whitened as he gripped   
the edge of the counter bracing himself; his left hand moving down to touch his aching cum-slippery cock.   He was now fully impaled on Benny's cock; he could feel the pressure of   
Benny's hips against his ass cheeks, Benny's balls tight up against his perineum. 

He looked at the mirror and shuddered spontaneously as he watched Benny pull back and plunge   
forward again and again, his hips and balls slapping against Ray's ass; watched himself respond   
as the passage of Benny's cock across his sensitive prostate was writ large on his sweat-shiny   
face; watched as the instinctive tensing of his rectal muscles caused Benny, his eyes half-closed   
and suffused with lust, to bite his lower lip to keep from crying out; watched as his own mouth   
formed the words, "Oh God, Benny, oh God" in mindless repetition; watched as he came,   
watching, his ass clenching down on Benny's hard cock. 

Ben's mouth filled with the taste of blood as he bit down on his lip trying, desperately, and   
failing, gloriously, to freeze the moment, to balance on the knife's edge of release as he pumped   
into Ray's spasming rectum, his hands gripping Ray's hips hard enough to bruise. His body   
curled forward reflexively around his lover and came to rest cradling Ray against his heaving   
chest as his cock slid out of Ray's anus. Struggling to breathe, Ray's name catching in his throat,   
Ben pulled Ray up into his arms. Sweat trickled down the back of Ray's neck, and Ben traced its   
beaded path, the salt tang sharp on his tongue. 

Ray's breathing was returning to normal and Ben could feel the trip hammer beat of Ray's heart   
slowing against his arm. His own vital signs also coming under control, Ben finally trusted   
himself to meet Ray's clear gaze in the mirror. Their eyes locked and Ben's demure smile was   
met by Ray's broad grin.  Shyly Ben whispered, "Thank you kindly, Ray." 

 "Oh Gawd, Benny, I *do* love you. And believe me, the pleasure was all mine." Ray said,   
beaming. 

Ben's eyebrow quirked up. "I beg to differ Ray: the pleasure was all mine, as well."   
    
*** 

Standing under the stream of warm water, Ben's fingers idly traced the paths of the shampoo   
bubbles running down the centre of  Ray's chest, his mind caught up in a combination of post-coital languor and the numbing heat of the shower.  He was still finding it difficult to come to   
terms with the rapid way in which his life, their lives, had changed over the course of less than   
24 hours. 

"Ray?" 

"Yes, Benny?" Ray ducked his head under the warm stream of water, rinsing the shampoo out of   
his hair. 

"Does this mean that the score is tied?"Ben asked, disingenuously, his deadpan delivery flawless   
but for the decidedly wicked gleam in his eyes. 

Ray's eyes snapped open, and he blinked rapidly as the last of the soap inadvertently washed   
into them. "Yeah, I guess so, Benny." He agreed, grinning. 

"So what happens now, Ray?" Ben asked, deliberately keeping his tone light; waiting,   
nevertheless, for an expression of Ray's commitment. He didn't need to wait long. 

Ray took Ben into his arms and kissed him before whispering in his ear, "Extra innings, Benny.   
Lots and lots of extra innings."                         The End 

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